


O Merlin in your crystal cave, Deep in the diamond of the day,

by orphan_account



Series: The Last Pratlord and the Once and Future Dingbat [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, Female Merlin, M/M, Not Always A Girl! Merlin, Pining, Please Review!, Reincarnation, Soul-bond, Soulmates, and feel free to criticize!, and female merlin/arthur, being unable to let go, fem!merlin, female in the next, i feel like i should explain that both male merlin and female merlin will be in this fic, is also a little shit, it's reincarnation, male in one life, merlin is a girl, remaking the world, sexual innuendo, this will have male merlin/arthur
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 01:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5028583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Merlin is a girl, Merthur, a rewrite from that perspective with added on bits because why the hell not?)<br/>At first, Merlin utterly loathes Camelot. There's a bossy Prince who seems to think her life *somehow* revolves around him, and his opinion is shared by that bloody elusive dragon who can't seem to answer a straight question - not even one like "What's your name?".<br/>("It'll be revealed when the time is right, young warlock, for knowing a name before it's due to be said can take away the importance of the moment.")<br/>(What does that even mean?!)<br/>Other than that, she has to keep her magic secret, stop knights from flirting with her, make sure she isn't lacking in her duties to either Gaius and Arthur, and to top it all off, somehow convince both herself and Arthur that he's the so-called 'Once-And-Future King' who'll unite the Five Kingdoms and restore magic to Camelot.<br/>Oh.<br/>And she's fairly sure she has a crush on him.<br/>(How can knowing someone's name take away the importance of it?! Arthur knows her name is 'Merlin', it doesn't mean he takes any less pleasure in it when he orders her to do fifty million things every day!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fresh Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> No young woman, no matter how great, can know her destiny. She cannot glimpse her part in the great story that is about to unfold. Like everyone, she must live and learn. And so it will be for the young warlock arriving at the gates of Camelot.  
> A girl that will, in time, begin the legend.  
> Her name: Merlin.

Frankly, if Merlin ever saw another dirt road, she thinks she'd cry. The journey from Ealdor wasn't very long - a day and a half on foot, even less on horseback - but for Merlin, who wasn't used to walking all day, it was tiring. She used her magic to effecitvely let her sleep as she walked, but realized the folly of that when a group of bandits tried to ambush her.  
A flash of golden eyes and a few hand gestures later, the bandits fled into the nearby woods. Merlin would've laughed if the next fork in the road didn't give her the beautiful sight of Camelot's white walls. She had forgotten herself for a few moments; magic wasn't welcomed in Camelot, and any caught with it would be executed without trial.

Merlin knew this because both Will and her mother had instilled the lesson three times a day before she left: Hunith to warn her daughter to keep her gift secret, Will to try and dissuade Merlin from leaving Ealdor. It was mostly futile, as Merlin had been keeping her magic secret since her birth. She'd only ever told Will, and that was because he'd caught her practicing it. It was a bit hard to say 'No, I definitely don't have magic' when you had a ball of fire calmly sitting in the palm of your hand.

Such tricks would get her killed in Camelot, and it'd be difficult for Merlin to stop using her magic so easily - she likened it to losing a limb. She knew she had to, for she valued her head and didn't want to be separated from it - or would they burn her, seeing as she was a woman? Merlin grumbled under her breath as she entered the city itself, finding herself slightly awed with the high stone walls. Here she was, a lone sorceress inside a city well-known for murdering kind, and all she was wondering about was what kind of execution would she face if caught!

Her mother's instructions (drilled into Merlin's head over a week or so) were to find Gaius, an old friend of her mother's, and deliver him a letter. Hunith had told her daughter that, hopefully, Gaius would take Merlin on as his apprentice. Merlin knew next to nothing about herbs, or healing, and to be truthful, she didn't even know what a Court Physician was. Did he heal the King and his family? Did he oversee the entire palace for illness, or simply the royal family, or perhaps the entire city? That seemed like a lot of work for an old man.

Merlin's head was focused on her boots as she entered the main courtyard of the castle, determined not to catch a guard's gaze and somehow be immediately outed as a magic user, but the sheer amount of people inside caused her to look up. They were all facing a platform in the middle of the courtyard, though currently they looked up at a grand balcony overlooking them all.  
"Let this serve as a lesson to all," a man in a black coat called out, a golden crown atop his head. He reminded Merlin of a vulture. He gestured to the platform again, and now she saw a man bent over, a headsman's ax - and the headsman himself - positioned above his neck. "This man, Thomas James Collins, is judged guilty of conspiring to use enchantments and magic. And, pursuant to the laws of Camelot, I, Uther Pendragon, have decreed that such practices are banned on penalty of death. I pride myself a fair and just king, but for the crime of sorcery, there is only one sentence I can pass."

 _No, no, no!_ Merlin called out silently, pushing herself through the crowd. This was not going to be her first sight inside Camelot's walls - she wouldn't allow an innocent man to die!

But it was already too late; as Merlin frantically pushed her way through the crowd, Uther raised his hand and the ax was brought down, beheading Thomas James Collins. It was a name she'd never forget.

Merlin watched, in mixed shock and horror, as Uther continued on, a sick sense of happiness in his voice. "When I came to this land, this kingdom was mired in chaos, but with the people's help magic was driven from the realm. So I declare a festival to celebrate twenty years since the Great Dragon was captured and Camelot was freed from the evil of sorcery!"

A cheer immediately went up in the crowd, so quick it made Merlin's stomach turn. A man had just been murdered, not even a minute ago, and now they were celebrating? It... it wasn't right. Apparently, someone else agreed with Merlin; a wail overtook the cheers, and all quietened as an old, wrinkled woman sobbed her way onto the platform, clinging the decapitated body of Thomas to her chest.

"My son!" The woman screamed, confirming Merlin's fears. She wondered if the grieving woman was aware of the guards slowly moving towards her. "There is only one evil in this land, and it is not magic! It is _you_!" Privately, Merlin agreed. "With your hatred and your ignorance! You took my son, and I promise you, before these celebrations are over, you will share my tears." The woman stood, dropping her sons body to the ground. She fixed a steely gaze on King Uther, who returned it with an equally murderous one. "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a son for a son."

King Uther's nostrils flared, an arm spread protectively over the blond haired man stood behind him. Merlin had paid him little attention before now, judging him to be a private guard for the King. "Seize her!"

His cry was for little use, the woman began muttering under her breath, before wind and smoke whirled around her, taking her from the courtyard.

Merlin dimly wondered if magical threats on the Prince's life were normal for Camelot, for everyone seemed to accept a possible assassination attempt on a member of the royal family as perfectly okay. Other than removing Thomas' body, the people of Camelot simply went onto their normal day to day. Surely it wasn't that usual of an occurrence to happen.

She sent a quick prayer to the Triple Goddess, hoping for Thomas' to have a nice afterlife, before moving. It would not do well to capture anyone's attention by staying near the dead sorcerer. After asking a guard where Gaius was, and receiving an incredulous look in return along with a mumbled direction, Merlin made her way to the man's rooms.

He was set up at the base of one of the large towers, a circular room with bookcases piled high. Indeed, there were so many books they were overspilling, and the man she assumed to be Gaius was stood on a rather precarious looking ladder. He hadn't heard her enter, and so she delicately cleared her throat, causing the man to jump.

Gaius would've fell to the floor, quite possibly cracking his skull open or even outright killing him, when Merlin's magic rose to the surface. Her normally blue eyes flashed gold as time stopped, causing Gaius - and possibly Camelot - to pause mid-second. Merlin breathed out a sigh of relief at saving his life, then cursed her own stupidity.

Barely there ten minutes, and she'd already used magic! She was just _asking_ to be beheaded!

Merlin looked wildly around for something to stop Gaius' falled, and came upon the bed stood not too far away. Once again she used her magic, pushing the bed over, and as time resumed it safely caught Gaius.  
Unfortunately for the young warlock, Gaius was incredibly perceptive.

"What did you do?" He hissed, standing up.

"Er..."

"Tell me!" Gaius demanded, standing up. "Girl, what you just did-"

"I didn't _do_ anything," Merlin protested. "I swear! I walked in and you started to fall, and the bed caught you. Absolutely nothing to do with me!"

Gaius ignored her lie. "If anyone had seen that, you would've been burned at the stake."

"There was nothing to see!" Merlin waved helplessly. "That, that was, that was just..."

"I know what it was," he snapped. "What I'm more interested is where you learned it."

Merlin deflated. "Nowhere," she said.

"So how is it you know magic?" Gaius studied her. "You're obviously experienced."

"I'm not! I don't know magic," the lie felt horrible on her tongue, yet Merlin had no inclination to tell the truth.

"Where did you study?" He asked now, eyeing her not unlike a bear would eye its prey. " _Answer me!_ "

"I-I've never studied magic," Merlin confessed. That much was true. "And I've never been taught it, either."

Gaius squinted, looking up and down her form. He lingered on the dirt caked hem of her beige dress, then met her gaze again. "Are you lying to me, girl?"

"What do you want me to say?" She questioned, exasperated.

"The truth!"

Something inside of Merlin snapped. "I was _born_ with it!"

"That's impossible!" Gaius immediately replied, before stopping. "Who are you?"

"Oh!" Suddenly remembering herself, Merlin pulled her backpack around, rummaging inside through the various trinkets and changes of clothes she had. "My... er... where are... my mother gave me this!" She brandished the letter as though it were the spoils of war, and proudly handed it over to a less-than-enthused Gaius. "My mother gave me this."

"I-I don't have my glasses," was all he said.

 _Back to basics then._ "I'm Merlin," she offered, smiling pleasantly.

"Hunith's girl?" Gaius said, in surprise. She nodded eagerly, but he still seemed shocked. "But you're not supposed to be here 'til Wednesday!"

"It _is_ Wednesday," Merlin pointed out, in confusion.

"Ah." Gaius nodded to himself for a moment, clearly wondering where his missing days had gone. Merlin sincerely hoped that it wasn't a sign Gaius' overall memory was going. He waved a hand up a small set of stairs at the back of the room, which must have led off into a private bedroom. "Set your things in there, dear girl."

Merlin was halfway there when she paused, looking back. "Erm, Gaius, you won't... I mean, you won't tell anyone about the-"

"No," he cut in, smiling kindly. It was the first time Merlin had welcomed since she'd left Ealdor. "But I _should_ say 'thank you'."

Merlin grinned.


	2. Sometimes love starts with a look and not a kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new arrival at Camelot, Merlin struggles to find her place in a world that denies her very existence. She vows to Gaius, who will keep her hidden from Uther, to keep her head low and not cause any trouble.  
> Then she meets a blond man who takes pleasure in humiliating his servants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> probs put this in here now; a conversation of a... innuendo (in *your* endo) nature. Don't read if it isn't your cup of tea.

_Merlin_

She rolled over in bed, burrowing her head beneath the pillow. _  
_

_Merlin_

"Go away," she mumbled. "'M not gettin' up..."

_Merlin, I know you can hear me_

Merlin blinked in annoyance, pushing her blanket back. "Gaius, I've been travelling all-" Her words fell short when, instead of the aging physician, she was met by an empty room. "What?"

There was only a slight breeze from the narrow window, rustling her dark brown hair. Her room held no one other than her, though she could hear Gaius rustling around below in the main chamber. Merlin's heart beat quickly, her breath coming out in short gasps.

She wasn't crazy; she  _heard_ a voice nearby. Unsettled, Merlin quickly pulled on her dress. Gaius greeted her with a bowl of porridge when she made her way downstairs, his eyes both wary and kind. There was a mop and a bucket of water, perhaps showing he wanted Merlin to do a few chores.

"I made you this," he said in greeting. "You fell asleep without eating last night."

Merlin winced, though she took it from him gratefully. "I... sorry, I was exhausted. Thank you."

Gaius nodded. The spoon was halfway towards her mouth when he suddenly moved, sending the bucket flying. Desperate for the water to not saturate everything, Merlin's eyes flashed gold, freezing it. Gaius gasped.

Merlin reluctantly met his gaze, her shoulders drooping. She let the bucket drop, hearing the water splash against the floor with a wince.

"How did you do that?" Gaius asked, sitting across from her. He let her eat for a moment, studying her curiously. "Did you chant a spell within your mind?"

"I don't _know_ any spells," she told him, eyes fixed on her porridge. "It's instinct,  nothing more."

"Impossible," Gaius whispered. He sounded almost in  _awe_.

"It really isn't," Merlin said, shaking her head. "I've always been like this. Ever since I was born I had magic. Mother sent me here because it's getting stronger."

He considered her words for a few more moments before placing a small bottle filled with amber liquid onto the table. "We have to keep you out of trouble while you're in Camelot."

"No, _really?_ " Merlin finished her porridge, pushing up from the table. "I thought we were going to walk right into King Uther's court and announce my arrival."

Gaius narrowed his eyes, but he chose to ignore her words. "You're going to help me with a few things, until I can find you some paying work."

She grumbled at the prospect of a job - she had no desire to spend the rest of her life cleaning up after some prat who didn't know how to look after himself. Still, perhaps doing a few chores for Gaius wouldn't be  _so_ bad. Merlin picked up the small vial, holding it up to the light.

"What's this for?"

"Sir Olwin," Gaius explained. "He's as blind as a weevil, so make sure that he doesn't drink it all at once."

Merlin frowned as the old man stood from the table and made his way over to a cluttered workbench, clearing a small pouch from the mess. "Why did the King make a blind man a knight?"

"Sir Olwin was made a knight over thirty years ago," Gaius said. "The last time he fought in battle was long before he became blind. Here," he dropped the pouch down in front of her. "Hollyhock and Feverfew, for Lady Percival."

Merlin gave a start. "Percival, did you say?"

"Yes, for her cold. She's had an awfully blocked nose lately - can scarcely take a breath." Once again, Gaius was suspicious. "Why?"

"I knew a Percival," she explained, gathering what he'd given her. It was still early, and if she got all of the work done soon, she might have the entire day to herself to explore Camelot.  _And maybe even find out where that voice came from, if it was more than simple imagination._ "Back in Ealdor; he was a travelling hunter. He taught me some sword work actually... I never knew 'Percival' was a girl's name, however."

"Perhaps he was embarrassed to tell you," Gaius suggested, before pushing her towards the door. "Now,  _go_ , I want you back by lunch."

"Fine, fine!"

After being unceremoniously pushed from the room, Merlin began her duties, though of course she needed directions again. The Lady Percival usually lived in a small fort not too far from Camelot, but was visiting the castle for the 'celebrations' (Merlin used the term loosely), whereas Sir Olwin could be found in his quarters near the barracks where most of the retired knights stayed.

The man greeted Merlin without words, grabbing the bottle and popping it open.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Merlin shook her head at her own foolishness. "Gaius said to not drink it all at-" Sir Olwin had downed the entire bottle, to her surprise. _Crap._ "I'm sure it's fine."

She ran from the room as quickly as possible, hopefully avoiding any side effects his quick drinking would cause. Lady Percival wasn't too far out of the way, which left Merlin with a good few hours before Gaius wanted her back. She decided to make the best of the warm and sunny weather to leave the castle walls and enter the city itself, a place that felt more homely than Camelot's cold exterior and interior.

Merlin was passing the drawbridge when she saw a group of knights practically bent over in their laughter, the ring leader - or so she guessed, from his posture of arrogance - was questioning a poor serving boy, who looked absolutely terrified.

"Where's the target?" The blond asked, as his gang sniggered in the background.

The servant pointed wildly. "There, Sir?"

"It's  _into_ the sun, eh?" He continued to ask, making a show of squinting.

"But, but," the servant glanced behind him, then back to the blond. "It's not that bright, Sir."

"Bit like you then." While Merlin had to admit that was an alright joke, she couldn't let him bully a boy who was definitely not older than her - and  _she_ wasn't even eighteen yet. Her fury was only strengthened when the knights laughed again, and she had the sudden urge to turn the lot of them into frogs, consequences be damned.

"Shall... shall I put the target over there, then, Sir?" He pointed down the other side of the training field, hidden in the shadow.

"Yes, yes," the blond knight waved a hand, not even looking as his request was carried out. Merlin knew his type alright; they had their every wish fulfilled from birth, and never wished for nothing. Not a day they went hungry or thirsty, not a night where they worried about the future; a life of pleasure and no pressure.

"Teach him a lesson, sire," one of the knight's egged on the blond. "Go on, sire, do it."

He grinned, catching Merlin and the sudden butterflies in her stomach by surprise. By the Goddess, why did the good looking ones have to be so  _dense_?

"Oh, I'll teach him a lesson alright." He plucked a throwing knife from his belt, tested its weight for a moment, before throwing it squarely at the round target the servant was carrying. She watched, utterly appalled, as they laughed even harder when the servant screamed in shock.

"HEY!" He immediately protested, and rightly so. "Don't-"

"Keep moving!" The knight ordered, between his guffawing. "Go on, don't stop!"

Merlin began to walk - no,  _storm_ across the training field as he continued throwing daggers, her eyes two stormy orbs.

"C'mon, Morris," he mocked. "You're not so dull to not dodge a dagger, are you?"

"Hey," Merlin snapped, grabbing his attention. "Stop it."

The blond knight was so surprised at her intervention his fourth dagger missed; flying straight past the target and almost hitting Morris in the eye. "What?"

"My friend, you've had your fun."

"Do I even  _know_ you?" He asked, turning to face her, Morris and the target (or Morris  _the_ target) long forgotten in the face of Merlin's pure lack of self preservation.

"Er, no," she offered a hand. "I'm Merlin."

He didn't even look at her hand, other than a disdainful glance. "So, I don't know you."

"No," Merlin admitted, dropping her offer. At first, she'd thought the man a moron. Now, she thought him a clotpole.

"Yet you called me 'friend'," he tutted disapprovingly.

"That was my mistake," Merlin forced out behind gritted teeth. She turned to leave; obviously he wasn't the reasonable sort, and she had no interest in picking a fight with a bunch of knights.

"Yes, I think so." He laughed, suddenly, even as she moved a way. "I could never have a friend who's so stupid."

Merlin snorted. "Nor I one whom was an ass."

"Your tongue does you no credit," the knight now said, deliberately trying to push her buttons, and  _damn him_ it was working. Merlin stopped walking, turning around to face him with a confident smirk.

"You'd be amazed at the amount of credit my tongue gets me."

There were a few gasps from the knights, one murmur of "Oh, no, she  _didn't_ ', but the only response she cared for was the blond knights - he wasn't scandalised, as some would be, but seemed to take it as some personal challenge.

"Tell me,  _Merlin,_ " he shouldn't be allowed to say her name like that, he really shouldn't. "Do you know how to walk on your knees?"

"No," she reluctantly said. This was a game without any clear rules. "Why? Do you want me on them?"

He  _definitely_ almost smiled then. "Well, if you don't know  _how_ , perhaps I'd best help you." The knight fingered (worst word choice  _ever_ , she almost blushed from thinking it) the pommel of his sword, as if making his intentions clear.

"I wouldn't, if I were you," Merlin advised. "You don't know what I'd do to you."

 _Ribbet_.

The knight laughed again. "Why? What in the Five Kingdoms could  _you_ do to  _me_?"

Of course; she was short, thin, and a woman. What  _could_ she do to a man like him? Her admittedly short temper snapped. Merlin threw a fist at him, surprising everyone watching, but she cried out in pain when he expertly caught it, twisting her around so he securely held her against his chest. Alright, maybe a physical approach wouldn't end well, but if magic were brought into the occasion, she'd- end up dead.

"You shouldn't have done that," he said. "Guards!"

"What?" Merlin shook against his grasp as she saw them approach. "You- you cannot do this!"

"And yet I am," he said, as he handed her over. "Throw her in the dungeons."

"Who do you think you are?!" Merlin almost screeched it across the yard. "The King?!"

"No," the knight said, as she got a close-up look of him. "I'm his son,  _Arthur_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved your reviews for the last chapter - oh, and there is a reason why Merlin is referred to as a warlock and not a witch. It'll be revealed eventually, :)  
> But please review this too, and leave kudo's too! It makes me happy, and happiness inspires creativity!  
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and the... revised version of their meeting!


	3. In the Castle, the mighty Castle, the dragon sleeps at night...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin finds herself in a bit of a predicament as she recovers from her verbal sparring match with Arthur. Gaius is, understandably, upset with her blase attitude, but Merlin can't really explain that the true reason why she enjoyed calling Arthur a clotpole so much is because it felt familiar, can she?  
> As a mysterious voice continues to call for her from beneath Camelot, Merlin begins to wonder just why her mother sent her to Camelot, of all places.

Merlin was annoyed, both at herself and 'Prince' Arthur. She knew better than to antagonize a knight, especially one with a chip _clearly_ on his shoulder, yet didn't think twice about trying to rile him up. Arthur, in turn, should never have allowed a simple commoner to do what she'd done; a proper Prince would've turned away, her barbs falling onto deaf ears.

Instead, she'd flirted with the future King of Camelot - who really should have told her he was a Prince when she began flirting, _really_ \- almost punched him, and was now quite possibly the first sorceress in the history of Camelot to be arrested for a crime other than magic. Although, to be fair, Merlin didn't quite know why she had been arrested; was flirting a crime? Was it because she'd shown him up in front of his little group? Or was it for the most simple reason possible - someone below Prince Arthur had actually stood up for herself?

_Merlin_

"Oh not that again," Merlin moaned, standing up. She abandoned her warmer-than-usual-but-still-pretty-damn-cold spot on the floor, backing into the corner of her cell. "Just let me sleep."

_Merlin_

"What do you want?" She hissed. "What could you _possibly_ want that makes you haunt me so?"

_You_

She gaped at the reply, staring gobsmacked at the floor. The whispering continued, now;

_Come to me, Merlin, come to me now._

Merlin got onto her knees, pressing her ear against the stone. There, the voice seemed even louder; was it coming from beneath Camelot? The city was built atop a mountain, there was nothing under it. Still, the evidence seemed clear cut - whatever voice called to her, figment of imagination or not, rose from below.

It was her cell gate opening that caused Merlin to scramble upwards, eager to not seem even more of an idiot than she already did. She held her breath, wondering Prince Arthur, or even his father, had decided to visit her and gloat.

It was a sigh of relief when Gaius entered, a scowl firmly placed on his wrinkled face.

" _Merlin!_ " He scolded, checking her over. It reminded Merlin dimly of her mother, which made her feel even guiltier.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"What did I tell you to do?" Gaius asked, though she wasn't stupid enough to reply. "' _Keep your head down_ ', I told you, and just _what_ did you do?"

"I'm sorry." Merlin repeated.

"You strolled up to Prince Arthur and called him an ass!"

Merlin faintly heard a snort from one of the guard's outside. "Well, he is an ass!" She said, deciding to stop her apology. She wasn't sorry for saying those things for Arthur, she was sorry for causing Gaius any trouble. "You should've seen him, Gaius, he was throwing daggers at a servant! He almost took out one of Morris' eyes. I had to do _something_!"

"Do something yes, not throw a punch at the future King!" Gaius shook his head. "You didn't think to feign being another servant, saying that the cook needed Morris?" Merlin bowed her head. "Oh, no, you had to _personally_ tell Prince Arthur how good you are with your tongue!"

She gasped, and heard another snort. "Wait, what? People are talking about that?"

"Arthur is talking about that," Gaius corrected, smiling pleasantly. "He's been telling everyone since he dumped you in here how he's so attractive it turns the servants wild. Literally."

"That bastard!" Merlin seethed, focusing solely on Arthur's claims and _absolutely nothing_ else. ( _He's talking about me!_ ) "When I get a hold of him, I'll-"

"Merlin, I can _quite assure_ you that I don't want to know what you'll do when Arthur is within your grasp." Gaius straightened out his robes. "I managed to pull a few strings, and you're being released without charge. Be grateful."

"Oh, I am! I'll never forget this, I swear." Merlin beamed, until she noticed that Gaius was still smiling. "Gaius, why are you-"

"Did you think you would get off without doing anything in repentance?" He chuckled, leading her from the cell - where it would probably be safer. "Oh no, the Prince and I came to an agreement. Instead of spending the night in the cells, you'll spend it somewhere _else_."

Some part of Merlin found that a distinctly odd sentence.

Of course, three hours and four wheelbarrows of various rotten fruits later, Merlin knew exactly where she was going to spend the night; in the stocks. There were bits of dried tomato's - which she was allergic to, by the way - and potatoes clinging to her once beautiful yet simple dress. Her hair was saturated in juice, and she was fairly certain someone had managed to get a cherry between her breasts.

"I'm so sorry," a woman said, with dark skin and darker hair. "You don't deserve this after standing up for Morris."

"It's alright," Merlin replied, waving a hand. She had a temporary respite as the children went in search for more projectiles to throw. "Someone had to."

"I know, but Prince Arthur is being so cruel." The woman blushed. "Oh, beg my pardon, I'm Guinevere. But call me Gwen."

 _Pretty name for a pretty lady._ "I'm Merlin," she introduced herself. "I'd offer to shake your hand, but..."

Gwen sent a glance to Merlin's sticky hand, then shook her head. "I'm fine, thanks. I'm Lady Morgana's maid - she was ever so happy to see what you did, apparently Prince Arthur's been complaining _all_ day."

Merlin grinned. "Tell Morgana I can do it again whenever she wants."

"I will," Gwen said, through her chuckles. "I heard someone say you're staying with Gaius, the Court Physician. Are you his ward?"

"Until I come of age, yes." Merlin took a moment to stretch out her limbs. "I'm from Ealdor, in Essetir. My mother wanted me to have a future other than farming and child rearing, so she sent me here and made Gaius promise to look after me. I was _supposed_ to be looking for work today, but Arthur's little strop put a stop to that."

"I can imagine," Gwen looked down, playing with the handle of the wicker basket she was carrying. "If you'd like, I could ask around the castle. I'm sure there's a job or two that could be filled."

Merlin gave her first honest smile since Gaius had left. "Gwen, that'd mean a lot."

She blushed, then gave a small bow as the children returned, their arms carrying even more fruits and vegetables than before. "I'd best go, you're adoring public has returned."

"I'm here all day!" Merlin yelled, laughing.

She got let out the next morning, back stiff from the position she'd been forced to sleep in, but thankfully the children had seen reason, and had stopped their assault after the sun went down. It wasn't too cold in Camelot, but that didn't mean Merlin was any less eager to get inside and be greeted by a warm, roaring fire.

"Do you want some vegetables with that?" Gaius asked, conversationally, as Merlin sat down to eat.

She thought of the _four_ cherries she'd found down her corset, and scowled. "I already apologised."

"Your mother asked me to look after you," he continued, in a gentler tone. "I cannot do that when you purposely antagonize the Prince of Camelot. Especially so with your gift."

"I _know_ ," Merlin said, guiltily. She dropped her head, staring at the pattern of the wooden table. "I won't apologise for protecting Morris, though. Arthur shouldn't have bullied him, and I shouldn't have said what I did. I'll think more clearly next time, I promise."

Gaius nodded, excepting her word as truth, before nodding to her stew. "Eat up then, dear girl." She was only eating for a few more minutes before he spoke again, the awe from before seeping back into his voice. "What did Hunith say of your gifts?"

"That I was special," Merlin recalled the many time's she'd accidentally lit a fire, and summoned a circle of animals to protect her while she slept, and whenever her emotions got volatile, she'd summoned huge storms that lashed Ealdor for weeks. "That I was too special to stay there."

"She's right," Gaius hummed. "You're unlike anyone I've ever seen. And, Merlin, I have seen much in my time."

She ducked her head again. "I have to hide it, don't I?"

"I'm not yet certain if that's even possible for you." Gaius tilted his head to the side, studying her intently. "Your magic is as natural to you as breathing, isn't it?"

"Yes," Merlin admitted. "Why?" _Am I a freak?_

"You require no incantations or spells for your magic to work," Gaius waved a hand. "Usually, such an instinct takes years - decades - to mature. For you, it's your pure nature and nothing else."

Sullenly, she stirred her stew around with her spoon. "What's the point of it, then? I'll just be killed."

"I don't know," he said, gently, patting her shoulder. "You're an enigma. That doesn't necasserily mean you're wrong - just different."

"What's the difference?" Merlin scoffed, pushing her stew away. Her appetite had mysteriously disappeared. It just wasn't fair; magic was part of who she _was_. She couldn't just stop using it. "Gaius?" _  
_

"Hmm?" Gaius looked up, pulling his attention from his amazement at her gift. "Yes, girl?"  
"Have you... have you ever studied magic?" Merlin knew that it was a dangerous question for anyone, especially so for someone inside Camelot's walls.

"Such things were banned twenty years ago," Gaius said, ignoring Merlin's question. "Back then, magic was used for evil, _evil_ things. It upset the natural order. Uther made it his life mission to correct this, and so banished all magic from his lands. He destroyed everything, even the dragons."

Merlin's head shot up. "Dragons?" She knew they existed, of course, everyone did; there were rumors of such beasts roaming outside the Five Kingdom's, but to actually _know_ that Uther had found all of them that he could and successfully killed them...

"All but one," Gaius nodded, sagely. "And he locked him up beneath Camelot in a great cave, chained there so he could never escape."

 _Beneath_? Merlin glanced interestedly at the floor; her mysterious voice came from beneath Camelot, too. Could it be the dragon itself? Calling to Merlin, for whatever reasons? Why would a dragon even _need_ her?

"Eat up," Gaius said, pushing the stew back towards her. "You'll need your energy after last night."

"Remind me to never tell Arthur he's an ass again," Merlin groaned. "I can _still_ hear the children laughing."

Gaius offered no sympathy - not that she was really expecting any - and placed a small vial down. "This is for-"  
"Sir Olwin need his medicine again?" Merlin asked, pocketing the vial.

"What? No, no, he's only to take a sip of that per day - should last him a few weeks." Gaius continued on as she remained silent. "This is for Lady Helena; she arrived last night when you were..."

"Entertaining the masses?" She shook her head. "I've got tomato juice in places juice should _never_ be."

"Which is teaching you a lesson, is it not?" Gaius laughed merrily. "The tonic will help clear her throat, and improve her performance tonight - I'm looking forward to it. Her songs are _so_ peaceful they could send me to sleep!"

"That's because you're old," Merlin said, standing. "A good hum would make you drift off."

"I could have your head for that!" Gaius yelled after her.

Giggling, she left the chamber and set off to Lady Helena's swanky room, guided by an overly-friendly guard who turned out to be Morris' older brother. It turned out that for the past two months, Arthur had been successfully driving off every single manservant he he had through various pranks; Bert, who now served in the kitchen, had been ordered to re-sew all of Arthur's clothes _twice_ , Martin, who had been fired by King Uther himself after being told that King Uther loved magic tricks that involved his crown being pulled from Martin's backside, and, finally, Morris - who was the first to quit.

"You inspired him," the guard, Albert, said cheefully. "He stood up to the Prince and said he wouldn't let 'imself be bullied no more, handed in his resignation _there_ and _then_. He works at the butcher's now."

"I'm glad," Merlin said. "It wasn't right for Arthur to treat Morris like that, and it's good for Morris to have a job he actually enjoyed. Does he have much experience with butchering?"

"Well, no, Morris usually faints when dead animals are around," Albert grinned awkwardly. "That's why the Prince was so angry with him yesterday; he took Morris out on a hunt, and, well, _apparently_ crying scares off the game."

"Ah." Merlin nodded; that did make sense. "Why'd he ask for the job then?"

Albert beamed. "It was offered. Everyone thinks you're a hero, and when Morris revealed that he stood up against the Prince too, everyone thought him brave. Prince Arthur's been a terror for years, but _you_ were the first to tell him to stop. No one'll forget that, milady."

"Call me Merlin," she requested. "I'm no better than you are." _Other than the whole 'moving things with my mind' and 'hearing an ancient dragon' things._

"That's Lady Helena's room," Albert said a few minutes later, pointing down a corridor.

There, set near a balcony overlooking a lower floor, was a door slightly open. Merlin thanked him for his troubles, and quickly made her way across, her skirt swishing across the floor as she did. She'd never really seen the appeal in singing, but she could understand why a woman would choose it for a profession; you could go where you wanted, sing what you wanted, and no one could ever order you to do something.

She placed the vial down on the dressing table, seeing as Lady Helena herself wasn't there, and was about to leave when a strange wicker doll caught her eye. It was an effigy, the kind one burned over a firepit. There was also a book, half-hidden beneath a shawl, packed full of pages. Merlin didn't know why she was snooping, but something in her gut warned her, told her to just _look_.

Or maybe she was just hungry.

The door creaked behind her, and Merlin's eyes flashed gold as she allowed herself a few extra seconds of replacing the book, with the shawl hiding it again.

"What are you doing in here?" Lady Helena asked, her voice tinged with anger. "These are my private rooms."

"I'm so sorry, milady," Merin curtsied. "The physician sent me, Gaius, with a tonic for your voice. He's looking forward to the performance."

"As is King Uther," Helena said, loftily. She walked forwards, fixing the blanket on the mirror and hiding her reflection. "It's an old practice of mine," she explained. "I always feel that seeing myself causes bad luck."

"Oh, I get that," Merlin sympathasised. "Whenever I'm nervous I can't drink."

"Tell me," Helena began suddenly. "What do _you_ think of these celebrations? Are you looking forward to my performance too?"

"No offence intended, milady," she curtsied again, for good measure. "But I _hardly_ think the death of an innocent man warrants a feast. And while I'm sure your voice is lovely, I think there are better times to hear it."

Instead of being offended, like Merlin feared, Helena beamed. It was a sad smile, true, but the coldness in her eyes had softened slightly. "Not many inside Camelot's walls think so."

"Oh, I'm sure they do," Merlin disagreed. "But they fear King Uther more. And his son, Arthur."

"Prince Arthur _is_ like his father, true," Helena sat down, running a hand through her black hair. "But I think that has more to do with not having a mother whilst growing up. It affects children, you see. Poor boy."

Merlin thought of her father, and how she'd grew up always resenting him _and_ missing him. It was hard to grow up knowing that your birth caused grief for one parent and caused the other to flee into the hills. "I think the bond between either parent and child is sacred, more so with only one child. But with a father like King Uther, you can't expect Arthur to be anything _other_ than a complete... dollophead."

Helena laughed. "Your perspective is unique and most needed. Thank you... may I ask your name?"

"Merlin," she introduced herself, offering a hand. _Unlike_ the dollophead that shall not be named, Helena actually shook it. "Pleasure, milady."

"Same." Helena waved towards the door, and Merlin took her que to leave. "Oh, and Merlin?" She paused in the threshold of the door. "I should think that you'll want to catch the show. It'll change your life _forever_."

Smiling politely, Merlin left the room and walked along the overlook, almost reaching the spiral staircase down when a shout from the corridor below caught her attention. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the famous _Mer_ lin. How's that knee-walking coming along?"

 _1, 2, 3, 4_. Calmly, Merlin leaned over the balcony to face him. There, stood on the blue and white diamond marble floor, stood Arthur, looking far too attractive for a man so bloody annoying. "What do you want?" She snapped.

"Oh, is that how it is?" Arthur lay a hand over his heart, feigning injury. "And here I've been, hoping we could move past your oh-so childish insults."

" _Childish_?" Merlin repeated, wary of raising her voice. "You were throwing daggers at your servant. I was telling you that you were wrong, and there's nothing childish about that."

"Do you see what I was talking about?" Arthur asked, facing a knight Merlin had never seen before. "Sir Leon, this is Merlin; she's the one who tried-"

"Sir Leon," Merlin said, mockingly, before he could continue. "This is _Arthur_ ; he's a complete moron."

Arthur gave a surprised laugh. "You can't talk to me like that."

"I wasn't talking to _you_ ," Merlin muttered. "You know, you should really get going. Lady Helena's room is right through there, and she won't like you harrassing poor, innocent girls right outside her door."

"There's nothing innocent about you," Arthur replied, though he did keep his voice down. Obviously King Uther had warned him against upsetting their guest. "Honestly, Merlin, don't you understand that you're beneath me?"

"Arthur, you haven't been above a woman in your entire life."

"Prince Arthur," Sir Leon intervened before their argument - well, it was really a trading of insults and humiliation - could grow. "We _really_ should go. Your father is expecting us."

Arthur's gaze (bright blue in the light, almost like the sky in summer) returned to Merlin's. "We'll have to continue this another time, I'm afraid. Maybe you'll find some better material."

"Yeah, and maybe you'll find a shred of decency." Merlin paused, hand-on-heart like Arthur did earlier. "Oh, _wait_ ; maybe you'll fine a shred of decency, _my lord_."

The last thing Arthur sent her was an amused glare. After Sir Leon had all-but _dragged_ Arthur away, Merlin basked in her metaphorical victory - there was sure to be more verbal battles between them - before skipping her way down the spiral staircase and through the castle. Sure, she'd directly disobeyed Gaius' ' _Leave Arthur alone_ ' rule, but Arthur started it; therefore, she was guilt free.

She came upon a smiling Gwen a little further into the castle, hanging some of Lady Morgana's dresses out the window to air them out.

"I thought you'd be around," Gwen said, in greeting. "Arthur just came through here a few minutes ago complaining to Ser Leon about you. Is it true you called him a prat?"

"I never lie," Merlin cheerily said, perching herself on an old wooden table. There were a few flowers in a vase, and she picked one of them, fixing the bright yellow flower in her hair. "What do you think?"

"It's lovely," Gwen said. "You know, you really ought to be more careful. Arthur might be benevolent now, but give it a week and he'll get bored."

"Hey, he started it. This time," she shrugged, swinging her feet back and forth. "If he insults me I'll insult him back."

"Merlin," Gwen began, hesitantly. "I know you think that it's just a game, but Arthur's a Prince. If he doesn't get his way-"

"He'll what, throw daggers at me?" Merlin smiled, showing her softer side. "All of this time he's spent angry at me, how's he been with his new manservant?"

Gwen gasped as the realisation hit her. "Oh! You're distracting him so he isn't so... so..."

"Prattish?" Merlin suggested.

" _Moody_ ," Gwen said, diplomatically. Merlin grinned.

"That's a polite way of saying prattish." She groaned, suddenly, inspecting her dress. "Ugh, I still have stains from all of those fruits."

"Why don't you just dye your dress?" Gwen suggested. "The castle seamstress offers them for free if she likes you."

"And will she like me?"

"You stood up to Arthur," Gwen said, with a laugh. "She'll love you."

Contemplating, Merlin jumped down from the table, spinning her simple beige dress around. "I'm thinking... blue?"

"It'll match your eyes," Gwen pointed out. "And Cecilla does have this really lovely shade of blue. It's like the sky, you know, when there's no clouds?"

 _Like Arthur's eyes_. Ignoring her thoughts betraying her, Merlin nodded. She said goodbye to Gwen - after asking for directions, of course, and believe her when she says that she cannot wait until she learns where everything is - and left for the seamstress.

It was later that night, in a chemise that offered no warmth whatsoever, with her now sky-blue dress drying over the fire, that Merlin found herself awake once more.

_Merlin_

"What?" She hissed.

_Come to me, Merlin_

Merlin groaned, rolling over in her bed. "Can't I get a good nights rest around here?" Even so, she got up, pulled her blanket around her like a cape, and went off in search of the dragon.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please review and leave kudo's (if you haven't already)! it really makes me, and any author/artist happy when people say that they enjoyed their work.


	4. The Mind Fuck of all Mind Fucks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin travels to the cavern deep beneath Camelot to finally meet the Great Dragon that is imprisoned there - only to find that it isn't really their first meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I will say is this; wibblywobbly timeywhimey.  
> wait wrong show

Frankly, when Merlin set out to find the ancient dragon's prison, she expected at least five, constantly aware guards all armed to the teeth. She ran through different scenario's within her mind, trying to figure out how she'd get past them.

What she found was two idiots playing cards. It was easy to distract them by making their dice ' _mysteriously_ ' roll away from them as they tried to pick them up. Why the guards didn't immediately scream ' _Sorcery!_ ' at such a sight, Merlin would never know; surely in Camelot, of all places, King Uther trained all of his men to instantly recognise the signs. The two guards were incredibly stupid to believe that it was simply the wind that caused their dice to roll away.

Merlin snuck past them once they were far enough away, quickly lighting a torch from a bracket on the wall. There was a long staircase that led down into the cave, many gates that creaked when she opened them, yet there wasn't a single lock. It seemed short-sighted on King Uther's part; why lock someone up in a cave without actually.... _locking them up_? It wasn't until she reached the end of the staircase and entered not a cave but instead an absolutely huge cavern that she realised.

The dragon couldn't use the staircase; _it was a dragon_.

"Hello?" She called out, at the top of her lungs. "Is anyone-"

A massive gust of wind hit her, pushing her back as the beating of wings could be heard. A great golden dragon flew down onto an island not far from her, peering at her.

"Young warlock, you have changed much since last I saw you on the shores of Avalon."

"What?" Merlin frowned, glad she'd brought the torch. She was slightly in awe at the dragon, he seemed so... different. "We've never met."

He laughed so hard she swore the stones moved. "Ah yes, you've forgotten. I suppose it's for the best; the memories of another life time could be distressing."

"Another life time?" Merlin repeated. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"The coin spins until it falls," the dragon said. "You did not complete your destiny, and so decided to try again. Arthur's death hit you hard."

 _Arthur?_ "You mean the Prince?" Her voice reached new levels of incredulous. "I wouldn't weep if he died; the man's a complete-"

"Dollophead?" The dragon guessed, stunning her. "It is not the first time I've heard such an insult. 'Clotpole' was always your favourite, however."

"It's a nice word," Merlin defended. "And you're speaking _utter_ rubbish. I might have magic, but I'm certainly not powerful to rewind time."

"Young warlock, you didn't 'rewind time'. You recreated the world." The dragon leant down, and Merlin found herself gulping even though she had the strongest instinct that he'd never hurt her. "Think back, Merlin. When you met your Prince, what did you feel?"

"Annoyed," she snapped. "I could never care about him - he's egotistical, and stuck-up, and the way he treated Morris! Even if he grew out of that, which he won't, he'll still be-"

"The Once and Future King."

Merlin paused. "Listen, I don't know what you think you know, Arthur isn't anything more than King Uther's son. 'The Once and Future King' reunites Albion and brings back magic - Arthur may have founded treaties but magic was still outlawed by the time Mordred wounded him at Camlann." The great dragon didn't have eyebrows, but Merlin guessed that if they did right they'd be raised.

"So you _do_ remember."

"I... I don't," Merlin tried to say, even as pictures flashed through her mind; the Saxon's falling under _his_ spells, Morgana trapping _him_ inside the Crystal Cave after stripping _his_ magic, Arthur lying in _his_  arms as...

_"Merlin," he gasped. "Just... just hold me."_

_"No, you're not leaving me," Merlin replied, voice catching._ _"You're not."_

_"I want to..." Arthur gurgled. "I want to say something... before..."_

_"You're not saying goodbye," Merlin himself was crying, but he ignored them in favor of holding Arthur. "Arthur, please."_

_"I want to say something I've never said before," it was with his final breath. "Thank you."_

Merlin came back to reality with a harsh breath. More memories flooded her mind, and, frantically, she tried to rummage through them, to make sense. Eventually, one question rose from her throat;

"I was a man?!

"Indeed," the great dragon shrugged his enormous scaly shoulders. "Though your soul has no true gender. I will say, however, you are your own person. The Merlin of that world is dead."

"That's not comforting," Merlin said, bending over to breath more easily. "Everything's muddled up. I remember meeting Arthur earlier today, but last time we fought in the city. With _maces_."

"Prince Arthur would never willingly raise his weapon against a woman," the dragon said, wisely. "Be it you, his sister, or his sister's sister. By the time you and he became friends, he would not raise a weapon against Merlin either."

"Yeah, but he used to call me a girl all of the time." Merlin met his gaze, squinting as she thought back. "Your name... it's Kilgharrah, isn't it? I remember someone I cared for telling me it."

Kilgharrah blinked once, then twice, before lowering his head as a sign of respect. "The man who told you was a great friend of mine. He- he thought of you as a son, by the end of his life."

She had a flash of warm eyes and a thick beard, but couldn't grasp his face before the memory fled. "Kilgharrah, why do you remember?"

"You stored your memories inside of me, and ordered me to help you without the ' _cryptic phrases that ever made much sense but were really annoying_ '." Kilgharrah's head titled to the side, and he gave Merlin an confused look. "I do not know which phrases you spoke of."

"Pretty much everything you said, to be honest," Merlin admitted. "I wasn't very patient, was I? Didn't I call King Uther a tyrant to his face?"

"You were in disguise," Kilgharrah informed her. "Uther planned to have a friend executed for enchanting Arthur. You disguised yourself so he would think you were the sorceror."

Merlin remembered telling Percival - a man she'd known since she was fifteen but also the same man she'd met for the first time when Lancelot had arrived with him in tow - that a sword hurt when jabbed into someone's side. "I called myself 'Dragoon the Great'." She glanced upwards. "Respectfully, of course."

"Perhaps it will be 'Dragoona' this time?" Kilgharrah gave a great booming laugh. "Ah, young warlock, it is good to see you again."

"Same to you, old friend," Merlin smiled. It faltered for a moment, when she recalled something else. "You were dying."

"Old age, I'm afraid," Kilgharrah shrugged again. "Unlike you, I do not have the gift of immortality-" She snorted, loudly.

"I'm not immortal."

"You are Emrys," he replied. "But perhaps you are right. But yes, after spending hundreds of years alive, my time will eventually run out. I am not afraid of this, young warlock, for I will leave the world a better place than the one I entered. But I would like to see the open sky one last time before I pass from this world."

"I can't remember everything," Merlin admitted, a short time later. "There are... gaps. Entire years and conversations and people that I just... they're gone."

"I have not gifted you back your memories, young warlock, what you remember is of your own mind. If I were to grant you the knowledge you gave me, you would have too much too soon. You gave me very clear orders, I'm afraid." Merlin could see the reasoning her... she was going to use ' _twin_ ' because ' _past life who recreated the entire world because Arthur died and was also man with really impressively big ears_ ' was a bit too much. And so, Merlin could see the reasoning her twin had; giving a lifetime of experience in one fell swoop could be enough to break her mind. There was one last thing bugging her.

"Everything I remember has Arthur in it, somewhere," Merlin said, with suspicion lacing her tone. "Every. Single. Memory. I remember Morgana trapping me in that cave but I was only thinking about how I couldn't save his life. I was obsessed with the man!"

"You were in love," Kilgharrah said sagely.

She burst out laughing. " _Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha_ ," Merlin paused for a moment, tears of laughter streaming down her face. "Oh god, were you serious?"

"Yes."

" _HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA_ ," she continued to chuckle as she calmed down, wiping her blanket across her face to dry it. "Oh, Kilgharrah, that's the best joke you've ever told."

"I am not jesting, young warlock, you loved Arthur more than life itself. When he died, so did _you_." Kilgharrah shook his head at her renewed laughter. "This is _not_ something to laugh at - your love for Arthur turned you paranoid, and, eventually, you turned your back on magic itself. You betrayed the Old Religion simply to keep him alive for another day."

"Kilgarrah, you're speaking nonsense," Merlin lost her mirth, eyes narrowed. "I'd never turn my back on the Triple Goddess."

"And yet you let her ways die to save your King. Arthur even asked you if he should return magic to Camelot, and you said no out of pure fear for his death!" Kilgharrah's golden eyes burned into her soul, his roar echoing around the cavern.

"That wasn't me!" Merlin roared back. "That was a different man in a different world! I'll help him bring back magic this time, Kilgarrah, I swear it!"

There was a blast of heat and light, and the next time Merlin opened her eyes, she found herself lying on her back looking up.

"That was very foolish, young warlock," Kilgharrah scolded. "Your magic is keyed to your emotions - you _must_ control it."

"Yeah, well, I was just told that the prat upstairs who keeps asking me to get on my knees is also the person my former self fell in love with." Merlin wrinkled her nose in disgust. "What did I see him in?"

"Courage, bravery," Kilgharrah began listing off. "A keen strategic mind, someone who never put himself over his subjects, and intense loyalty to those he loved. His heart burned so brightly for Queen Guinevere that he loved even her when Morgana turned her heart dark."

 _Guinevere... Guinevere..._ "You mean Gwen?!" Merlin shouted, at the top of her voice. "Gwen's his Queen?"

Kilgharrah shuffled, not meeting her gaze. "In...  _that_ realm, yes."

Merlin decided she didn't much like the sound of that. She stood up, dusting off her blanket-turned-cape, and met his gaze again. "I'm destined to help Arthur restore magic to the land, aren't I?" She groaned. "I remember  _that_ , but everything else is just... surely giving me all of the memories would be better? Then I'd know who the dangers were and when they approached! All I've got is Camlann and Mordred."

"The most grave of all," Kilgharrah told her. "Mordred succeeded in killing Arthur. If you seek him out now, you can end the threat before it even  _is_ one."

"I'm not killing a child!" Merlin snapped. "And... I might not know much, but I was horrible to Mordred, wasn't I?" Her answer was given when Kilgharrah didn't meet her eye. "That was what caused Camlann to happen! I told Arthur to not bring back magic because I'd hoped Mordred would die! That's not happening again. If he arrives at Camelot again... I'm not holding an entirely different world against him - I wouldn't do it to anyone else."

"And what of Morgana?" Kilgharrah now asked, tilting his golden head to the side. "You can put  _her_ actions aside? Young warlock, can you put yours aside?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Merlin wondered, defensively.

"You killed her," he said, leaning down. "You put a sword straight through her stomach as she tried to murder Arthur. Can you  _truly_ say you can forget that and ignore all the evil that she did? She tortured you!"

Merlin resisted the sudden urge to beat Kilgharrah's smug face. "I won't hold a different world against anyone. That applies to Arthur, Mordred, Morgana...  _you_. They're not the same people."

Kilgarrah made a noise of consideration. "That is true, young warlock. Events unfolded differently in this world. I, for example, am not the last of my kind."

"Yes, I know, the dragon egg." Merlin remembered  _that_ because she - well, at the time,  _he_ \- had been panicked to find Arthur poisoned. "I can try and find it earlier."

"No,  _not_ the dragon egg." Kilgharrah gave a pleased sigh. "When Uther ventured from Camelot to try and capture and kill my brethren, he was pushed back. The dragons in lands far from here are still alive. I can hear them even now, in my mind's ear."

Telepathically, then.

"That's good, then, isn't it?" Merlin guessed. "I mean, when you get free you can re-join them. If they let you.  _Do_ they like you?"

"My brothers and sisters miss me, as I do them, but they cannot break me free, for I would not wish to go before I can help you." Kilgarrah's eyes softened, which was an odd look for a dragon. "There is a Dragonlord there, protecting them and his people. Balinor, is his name. Does it sound familiar, young warlock?"

Merlin struggled to think, but got nothing. Except... "He had a beard? Why, is he important?"

"You..." He sighed. "You should meet him at some point, Merlin. He would enjoy your company, I should think.

She watched him, puzzled by his behavior. The dragon didn't often get melancholy, but when he did, it was odd. Balinor and Kilgharrah must've been close before his imprisonment. "Is this the part where you give me a cryptic prophecy?"

" _He listens to the lullaby because he thinks ruling is what she wants for him, but it isn't_ ," Kilgharrah began in a tone she'd never heard before. " _She calls herself his mother, but the only one who truly cares is the one he is destined to kill._ " He smiled. "You will understand when the time is right, young warlock."

Merlin could've screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who can guess the meaning of Kilgarrah's prophecy? i'll pm you if you're right! (you probably won't be though, cause, respect to me for makin' it so vague) I decided that this chapter would only have this one scene, purely because of how large and strange it is.  
> In case anyone doesn't understand; instead of deciding to live on without Arthur, Merlin remakes the world to 'give it another go' because he can't let go. Everyone is reincarnated, but there are a few changes - Merlin being a woman this time round, as an immediate example. However, that doesn't mean her power changed any - I maintain that Witch/Warlock aren't just gender differences. Warlocks have powers that Witches don't, and vice versa. Merlin is called a 'warlock', just as any other female magic user might, because she has those exclusive powers. 'Witches', in my eyes, would have Foresight, roots, poison, that kind of thing, whereas Warlocks are, for me, more elemental based and less 'put the mandrake beneath his bed it'll make him see his dead wife'. Men can be Witches, women can be Warlocks. And I know *that* because my mother practices Wicca, and, well, I've picked up a few things.  
> It'll be explained more in time, but I just wanted to put this in for anyone confused or wanting more explanation.  
> Also it means that in OU (original universe, as it shall now be named because i said so so there), Merlin was very much in love with Arthur. So... what I'm saying is 'soulmates'.


	5. A Spinning Coin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After spending a night with Kilgharrah, Merlin awakes utterly confused in her bed chamber, not knowing how she got there. Now informed with the knowledge that, one day, Arthur will rise to become the Once and Future King and that - apparently - there was another world before their own, in which they apparently failed their joint destiny. In that world, Merlin - who loved Arthur, though only the Goddess knew why, the man was a complete prat - went mad with grief, and recreated the entire world.  
> Merlin, of this world, has vowed to not let that change her; *that* Merlin never completed his destiny, and therefore, he obviously got a few things wrong. *This* Merlin will follow her heart first, if not to save Arthur from dying on the shores of Avalon, but to finally reunite Albion and bring back magic to the land.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to dedicate this chapter to Aeternam_fandoms, who sadly lost their life after reading the last chapter.  
> May we all raise a glass in their honor, and make a pact; in the future chapters, the plot shall only blow our socks off, and not our heads.
> 
> (Seriously though, getting said my plot killed you was such a compliment!)

"How could you be so foolish?!"

Merlin blinked, wondering when she'd left Kilgharrah's cavern and got back into bed. Had it all been a dream?

"You idiotic girl!" Gaius' sharp voice continued, reaching her side. "I _cannot_ believe you!"

"Arthur started it..." Merlin mumbled, pushing herself up on her elbows.

"Arthur?" Gaius repeated. "I was talking about the Great Dragon. Uther has issued a warrant for whoever visited him last night."

"I've no idea what you're talking about," she defended, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "I stayed here all night."

Gaius raised an eyebrow, and fixed her with a look so severe Merlin forgot entirely about lying. "What. Did. You. _Do_?"

"I had to ask him something!" Merlin gushed, standing up properly. "I had questions, and he's been calling to me ever since I arrived at Camelot - really, all of the time. I- I just wanted to know the truth!"

"And?" Gaius pushed. "It'd better be worth it!"

"It _was_!" It really, truly was. She still didn't remember just when she'd left the dragon, but the last thing she did recall was the dragon gifting knowledge to her - of the magical variety. Kilgharrah had, apparently, been instructed by the previous Merlin to give her the skills he had. Perhaps that was why she felt tired down to her bones; her body must be adjusting to having such power. Though, to be honest, she didn't really feel that different.

There was, of course, the whole 'her other self was in love with Arthur' thing to worry about, but Merlin was certain that it was a localised thing. That Merlin loved that Arthur; there was no proof that it would happen in this world. Right?

"You better be telling the truth," Gaius warned, though now it was in a warmer tone. "Uther will have your head if he finds out who visited the great dragon."

"How does he even know?" Merlin asked, once again using her blanket as a cape. She followed her guardian down into the main room, grateful to see that, despite being angry with her, Gaius had still taken the time to make her breakfast. "There weren't any locks."

"No physical ones," Gaius smartly said. "Each of those gates were warded, child. The _second_ you stepped through one, the connected post in Uther's bedchamber lit up. He knows."

"Wait," Merlin had not even left their chambers, and she could already feel a headache coming on. "Wards are a type of magic. Magic is outlawed."

"Merlin, when Uther locked the dragon beneath Camelot, he swore that he would use any means necessery to keep him there. He had a Dragonlord lure the dragon in, used ancient harbor chains enchanted by a High Priestess of the Old Religion, and then warded the only footpath into the cavern. Did you honestly think Uther would not secure his greatest prisoner?"

"I just thought he'd be too arrogant to even _consider_ any of that," she confessed, lazily eating her porridge. "I mean, Uther's never really been known for... thinking things through. Look at Arthur."

"Hmm?" Gaius raised his gaze from where it'd been looking oddly at her wooden spoon. "You are right, but the Uther of twenty years ago is a very different man to the one now. But he always thinks of what will happen to Arthur."

_But not his mother._

The thought came into her mind unbidden, and for the life of her Merlin couldn't figure out where it came from. She had a brief, blurry image of a weeping Arthur holding an equally weepy woman, and wondered if that was the dead Queen. But that was impossible; Queen Ygraine died almost twenty-one years ago.

"What?" Merlin asked instead, suspicious of his look. "I won't visit again, I promise."

"It's not that," Gaius said. "It's that you've been telepathically moving that spoon for the past three minutes and have yet to notice it."

Merlin gaped. "I-I-" The spoon clattered back into the bowl, spraying porridge upwards - instead of hitting Merlin and Gaius, however, the porridge hovered intelligently for a few moments in small balls, before moving back inside the bowl.

"You need to be more careful," he said, meeting her reluctant gaze. "Using magic so carefree-"

"I didn't mean to do it!" Merlin snapped, pushing the bowl away. "I could move things like that before I was even  _born_."

"Then by now you should know how to use it!" Gaius stood up, pressing his palms into the table. "Magic isn't so you can be lazy; it's to be studied, mastered, and used for good."

"What's to study?" She asked, pushing away. "Magic is who I  _am_ , Gaius, alright? Without it, I'm just some bastard nobody from a town no one's ever heard of."

Merlin stormed back up to her room, slumping into her bed and covering herself with her blanket.  _It just wasn't fair,_ she realized,  _not fair at all_. Here she was, the fabled Emrys - she had the power to recreate worlds, and yet she was being told off for making a spoon hover in mid-air. Merlin could probably kill everyone inside Camelot, or even the whole of Albion, if she so wished, but she didn't, so instead she was forced to keep it secret? Why did destiny have to put her here, in a place she could  _never_ be herself?

Was this what the other Merlin felt, when he first arrived? Had he spent years wishing to be anywhere different so he could practice his gift in peace, or was he content with Camelot because he had hope that Arthur would change?

And  _he_ ultimately failed, she knew this from the ever-present memory of Arthur lying in her arms, dead. It filled her with more dread than expected, really, because she'd only met the man twice, and both occasions gave her the clear impression that he was a complete prat who cared for no one other than himself. Was she fated to have that same thing happen? Would Camelot almost reach its Golden Age  _again_ only for its King to die?

Did Merlin really want Arthur to die in her arms again?

"Merlin!" Gaius' voice called from below. "You have a visitor!"

"Just a minute, I'm getting dressed!" She called back, abandoning her bed-nest.

It was no use, she decided as she pulled on her magically dried blue dress. Worrying about Arthur dying  _now_ was pointless for Camlann wouldn't be for another decade - nothing she did now would affect that... save hunting down Mordred and gutting the kid. But no, Merlin would hold to her promise to keep a clear mind -  _that_ Mordred killed  _that_ Arthur,  _this_  Mordred has nothing to do with  _this_ Arthur.

Still left a bad taste in her mouth, though.

"Gwen!" Merlin said, as she left her room. The maid was stood awkwardly next to Gaius, the two obviously floundering for conversation before her timely arrival. "I dyed the dress; looks lovely, doesn't it?"

"Oh yes!" Gwen ran an appreciative eye over the hem. "It covered up the stains nicely, and it does match your eyes." Merlin gave a pleased twirl, which caused both women to giggle. Gaius muttered something under his breath before returning to his bench, he began crushing what  _looked_ rat testicles. Ew. "You said you were looking for paid work?"

"She is," Gaius answered, suddenly a lot more interested in their conversation. Probably because having an extra guest cost more, and Merlin wasn't exactly... pulling her weight. "Have you found something?"

"Lady Morgana did," Gwen admitted as a blush bloomed across Merlin's face.

"You asked  _Morgana_?" She repeated, squeaking.

"I mentioned offhandedly that I met you when you were in the stocks," Gwen explained. "And Lady Morgana said that King Uther was angry because one of the serving girl's has completely disappeared and never gave Lady Helena her fruit basket. She said that if you're interested, the job's yours - but you'll have to meet Lady Morgana first."

"She wants to make sure I'm actually me?" Merlin guessed.

Gwen laughed. "No, she wants to thank you for calling Arthur a complete moron - everyone in the castle heard about it."

"But only Sir Leon was there!" Merlin tried to say, ignoring the very judgmental glare Gaius was fixed on her.

"Sir Leon is known for being a notorious gossip," Gaius said. "And I thought  _you_ promised not to antagonize Prince Arthur any more than you already have."

"He started it," Merlin whispered petulantly. She brightened up a bit when Gwen led her to Morgana's chambers, with a tonic for Morgana's nightmares. Merlin was, admittedly, a bit nervous; she still had the memories of the last time they'd 'met'.

Morgana's rooms where located up a spiral staircase not too far from Lady Helena's place, and Merlin was constantly on-guard to see if a certain blond prat rounded a corner. It wasn't that she was actively  _ignoring_ him, but how do you look someone in the eye after finding out that, in another world, you loved them? Sure, Arthur was attractive - with his light blue eyes that were, purely by accident, similar to the shade of dress Merlin now wore, with his wide shoulders and muscles, his face in general was quite nice - all symmetrical. And, sure, his light blond hair was lovely, especially when it was a bit ruffled and in the light - but did  _any_ of that imply that Merlin was, somehow, fated to fall in love with him? Or that, deep down, she actually thought that he was anything other than a moron?

No - she had no interest in Arthur. None whatsoever. He was a complete egotistical man child with a smile that reduced her heart to a rapidly beating mess.

"Gwen, dear, can you help me with this fastening?" Morgana's voice called out from behind a screen as they entered, and Gwen quickly shuffled off to fulfill her mistress' wish. "Did you bring Merlin with you?"

"Yes, milday," Merlin answered for her. "I thought it impolite to ignore your request."

Morgana laughed as she left the screen, wearing a purple dress with sheer sleeves and a not-so modest neckline. "From the way Arthur talks about you, being polite is the least of your worries."

"Only when it comes to him."

"I told Merlin about the position you offered," Gwen said, her head bowed. It was apparently a sign of respect for the King's ward, but Morgana didn't even seem to notice that Merlin held her head high. "She said she was interested."

"Ah, good," a polite smile overtook Morgana's warm one. "It's just a simple position, serving wine and the like for the feast. Normally I wouldn't be involved, but Uther was complaining the entire time during breakfast that I simply  _had_ to do something." She continued on under her breath. "Not that it was my idea."

Merlin frowned. "Then  _whose...._ "

"Arthur mentioned that perhaps a job would keep you from tormenting him," Morgana giggled. "I haven't seen him so ruffled since of the knights said he was naming his son after Arthur."

"Poor child," Merlin said before she could help it.

The three women burst out laughing, as though the one barrier between the social classes was making fun of a boy, before Morgana moved over to her vanity, swirling her dress around. "What do you think?"

"It's wonderful, ma'am." Gwen said, immediately moving over to smooth out any wrinkles. "You'll be the envy of everyone at the feast."

Merlin felt a bit out of place - she'd been so happy with her blue dress before, but now, seeing it in comparison to Morgana's...

"Did you know Arthur  _expects_ me to go to the feast with him?" Morgana sniffed haughtily. "Because he's the King's son and I'm the King's ward, we have to go together. He didn't even ask."

"He never asks," tutted Gwen. "Remember that Samhain where you got him a new sword and he got you a rock?"

"It was a pretty rock," Morgana defended.

"Was it a pet rock?" Merlin asked. They both turned to her with quizzical expressions, and she hurried to explain. "Back in Ealdor, pets are expensive when you barely have enough food for yourself, but I always wanted a dog. My mother gave me a pet rock for eighth birthday instead."

She refrained from mentioning that her magic had morphed the rock into a miniature hound complete with wagging tail. Merlin genuinely didn't know if the rock - named Dwayne, the pet rock - was sentient, but she was so attached to it she still slept with him beneath her pillow.

"Villagers have odd lives," Morgana noted. "I've never heard of  _anything_ like that before."

"Elyan once had an imaginary friend that lives underneath the kitchen table. He's my brother," Gwen added on for Merlin. "He spent an entire summer playing with 'Sheldon'."

"Arthur was never like that growing up," Morgana explained, moving over to her wardrobe. "He was much too interested in hitting things with swords."

"How long have you known him?" Merlin asked the question before she even realized she wanted to know the answer.

"Lady Morgana moved here when she was twelve, and Arthur was ten." Gwen said. "That was almost eleven years ago."

"You're making me feel  _old_ ," Morgana complained. She pulled out a silky red dress, the top was a diamond shaped that covered her breasts and nothing else, held up by a single golden collar. It would show off her collar bones and back, but what it kept covered would draw the most attention. "Now, how about  _this_ beauty?"

"Woah," said both Merlin and Gwen, which Merlin guessed was the reaction Morgana wanted.

"It's just a decision now," Morgana returned to the vanity, holding up the red dress next to the one she wore. "Wear this tease, or give them a night they'll  _really_ remember."

"Merlin should go speak to the cook," Gwen said. "To see if there's anything needed doing."

"Oh," Merlin suddenly fished around in her bag. "Gaius gave me this tonic, he said it was for you."

"Bless him," Morgana said, taking it gently. "He always knows when my nightmares are bad."

Merlin bade the two women goodbye, feeling more grateful than anything else. She finally had a paying job  _and_ she could attend Lady Helena's performance, which she was looking forward to more than anything else!

* * *

 

Arthur was  _not_ looking to Lady Helena's performance. Singing had never been a great hobby of his, and he could count on one hand using no thumb and no fingers the amount of times he'd gone, after listening to a singer, 'wow, I really enjoyed that'. Arthur was a man of action, not sitting in a chair listening to a woman sing for a few minutes. Still, he knew he  _had_ to be there; the feast was important, not only to show Lady Helena just how glad they were of her company, but as a celebration for twenty years of peace after the Great Purge.

For reasons that only Arthur knew and no one else would  _ever_ know, he'd been a bit on edge ever since the sorcerer had been killed three nights ago. His father had mistaken it for his usual broodiness and Morgana had (wrongly) assumed that he was caught up on that insolent girl, which was wrong because he didn't  _care_ about some pretty girl teasing him - why would he? No, Arthur was more on edge than usual because a man with magic had just been executed.

But it was nice to pretend otherwise.

Arthur and the other Knights were hanging around the mead table, a goblet filled to the brim at all times, sharing loud and entertaining stories with each other. They were listening to Sir Kay's rather enthusiastic retelling of a time he'd been ordered by King Uther to escort a group of merchants to Cendred's border when Arthur became distracted by a dark haired beauty. It wasn't Morgana, it was...

"Merlin," Arthur hissed, eyes latching onto her pretty blue ones. They glared at each other from afar, neither party willing to back down. "What's  _she_ doing here?"

"She works here," said Sir Leon, who somehow knew about everything going on inside Camelot's walls. "Apparently the Lady Morgana got her the position."

Morgana.  _Of course_.

Merlin continued to match Arthur's glare as she chatted with her fellow servant Guinevere, and she didn't even blink when Morgana herself entered the room, looking positively ravishing in her red dress. Not that Arthur noticed, or even took in Kay's whispered "God have mercy," because he was too busy being astonished by the gall of Merlin as she  _stuck out_ her tongue.

She was daring him to pull his tongue at her too, Arthur knew, but he wasn't going to do that in full gaze of the entire court - he was twenty years old, almost a  _man_ , and was the future King. So, instead, Arthur waited until everyone was staring at Morgana and  _then_ pulled his tongue at her.

Merlin smirked triumphantly, but he noticed that it was turning into more of a genuine smile. Arthur didn't know why he cared so damn much.

"Arthur," Morgana's smooth tones interrupted his staring match, but there was an air of superior knowledge about her. "Enjoying the feast?"

"Of course," Arthur took her arm, leading her through the throng of people to the main table, where his plate was already holding a large pile of food (mostly chicken legs). "I thought it'd take you forever to get here."

"Masterpieces are never rushed," she said, gesturing to herself. "And I was late preparing due to helping Merlin find a job."

Arthur's grip on her arm tightened. "And just  _why_ did you do that? The girl's a pest enough without running into her every day."

"Say what you will," Morgana barely contained her mirth, and small giggles were starting to come from her throat. "You enjoyed it just as much as Merlin did."

"Merlin enjoyed it?"

He cursed himself the moment he saw the joy in Morgana's eyes.

"You... will forget I ever said that."

Thankfully, they were forced to sit apart when they ate, Uther's chair separating them both. The man himself made a late entrance, his regal red cape sweeping along the floor behind him.

"We have enjoyed twenty years of peace and prosperity," his father began, as happy as possible. "It has brought the kingdom and myself many pleasures, but few can compare with the honour of introducing Lady Helen of Mora."

Arthur kept finding his eyes trailing back to Merlin. Oddly enough, she'd moved away from the other servants, near Arthur's right. Her eyes were closed, and her knuckles were gripping the flagon of wine she held so hard they were going white.

He was glad when his father sat down after introducing Lady Helena - the exceedingly beautiful woman smiling pleasantly from her small stage - because he wasn't sure why a simple serving girl kept distracting him so much. She began to hum at first, a slow, peaceful thing.

" _þære átorloppe smúgan ond íc bewépe, for þære bearn íc LEÓFu_."

Her voice was melodious, calming, soothing. It felt like slipping into a warm bath after a long day of training. Arthur tried to keep his eyes open, to show to proper respect a guest of Camelot was worth, but it... was... so...  _hard_... it felt like a mother's embrace, but Arthur had never felt such a thing and had nothing to compare the sensation with. _  
_

Slumping down into his uncomfortable chair, Arthur almost jumped when the lights went out. He was forced to wrench his eyes open, but that forced him to ask a question that he didn't want to answer;  _when did I close my eyes?_

"Sorcery," he whispered, hoping to God that someone heard him - his father, Sir Leon, hell, even  _Merlin_ \- because he recognized the tingle at the back of his skull like nothing else.

The next thing he knew he was brushing away cobwebs. The entire court was in a similar state, though Arthur had to strain his eyes to see, due to the sudden darkening of the room.

"What happened?" Uther asked from next to him, getting to his feet.

"I don't-" Arthur followed, eyes widening when he saw the fallen chandelier atop Lady Helen- no, wait, that was the sorcerer's mother, the one whom had sworn to kill Arthur for the loss of her son. She'd been Lady Helena all along.

"My son!" She hissed, making one desperate effort to kill him. She grabbed a fallen dagger from the floor, using surprising accuracy to throw it smoothly at Arthur's head. It moved too quickly to dodge, sailing through the air as though in slow motion.

" _Stop!_ " A voice yelled, before two small and delicate arms wrapped around Arthur's chest and pulled him to the floor. He landed with a groan, but it was a surprisingly soft landing. "Gods, you're heavy."

"Merlin?" Arthur asked, pulling up. He looked behind him, eyes widening when he saw the dagger planted halfway through his chair's headrest - right were Arthur's heart would have been, if Merlin hadn't pulled him out of the way. He turned back to look at her incredulously as his father helped him stand, too shocked to do anything else.

"You saved my boy's life," Uther whispered, with no small amount of amazement. "A debt must be repaid."

"It was nothing, your majesty." Merlin insisted, ducking her head. Arthur found himself a bit miffed - she avoided his father's gaze and used the proper term, but all  _he_ got was 'prat'? "I was simply fulfilling my role as a servant of Camelot."

"Don't be so modest," Uther said, gripping Arthur's arm tightly. He was probably reassuring himself that his son was still alive.

"No," her voice became more forceful. " _Really_ , you don't have to."

"Nonsense, you have done something very important. This requires a special reward."

Oddly, Merlin perked up. "If you insist..."

Uther beamed, taking her shoulder and pushing her towards Arthur, who glared at Morgana's laughing face. "You shall be Prince Arthur's manservant!"

"No!"

" _Manservant_?"

They glared at each other for ten seconds, before returning to Uther. "Father, I don't need a manservant-"

"I'm not a manservant!" Merlin protested. "I can't even  _be_ a manservant - it's biologically impossible!"

"You are now," Uther assured her. "It's fitting for saving my son's life."

"Father," Arthur began, trying to make him see reason. "There are two perfectly large reasons why Merlin cannot be my 'man' servant."

Merlin gasped, offended, and wrapped her arms over her chest. "They're not that big!"

"I was speaking about your  _ears_ ," Arthur lied. "They're so large they could be called trophy handles."

"Oi!"

Uther had already left to investigate the fallen chandelier with the knights, leaving his son and his new  _maidservant_ gaping.

"Balderdash," Merlin cursed. "If I knew this was the outcome I wouldn't have saved your bloody life. I already have a job!"

"Well now you have a promotion," Arthur reasoned. It wasn't  _that_ bad, of course; he could probably run Merlin off in under a week with a few horrible chores. "You know, it's good that he's done this. My previous servants were all terrible."

"Probably because they were terrified that you'd use them for target practice," Merlin suggested. "Which is ironic, really, because I just stopped  _you_ from being target practice for that woman."

"Mary," he informed her, not knowing why. "Her name was Mary." And her son was Thomas James Collins - it wasn't a name Arthur was likely to forget.

Merlin observed him, eyes narrowed. He didn't know what she was looking for and he didn't know why he felt so happy when she turned away, obviously having found something. "So, when do I start?"

"I'll call for you when I need you," first Arthur needed to create the longest and most complicated list known to mankind. "Where do you live?"

"In the Court Physician's chambers," Merlin said, surprising him. "Gaius is an old friend of my mother's - he'll be my guardian until I'm of age."

Arthur nodded, walking off to join his father. He looked back at the last second though, finding her watching him. She blushed - a pretty pink colour spreading across her face and down her neck - and hurried off.

He was looking forward to it more than he thought he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review! It really, really makes me happy, and I know I dedicated this chapter to two special people, but I'd love to thank everyone whom has reviewed so far - you make want to write!  
> Also, if you have any questions about the story, or even ideas, PLEASE feel free to send a message - they inspire me. AderaReam made a comment about whether sorcerers/sorceresses and witches/warlocks were different branches of magic, or just interchangeable, which got me thinking, actually. So, yeah, if you read a line and it gets you thinking, or even if you're half asleep at three in the morning and get a sudden burst of inspiration like I did (college the next day, desperately trying to sleep, my brain goes "What if Merlin was so upset that Arthur died, he recreated the world but came back as a girl?", and I think we all know how that turned out) I wouldn't mind at all if you sent me a message or left an idea or two in your review.  
> Did you enjoy Arthur's POV? Should I do it again? What's your favourite part?


	6. Snake's Tail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin's first day of being Arthur's servant goes as expected, really.... a long list of chores, an annoying clotpole who didn't seem to understand the meaning of 'leave me alone' and a creepy knight with an equally as creepy snake shield who keeps flirting with her (he also seems unable to understand 'leave me alone'). Her magic is slightly unstable, what with Kilgharrah gifting her with her previous life's skills - and she almost ends up outing herself to the one person she definitely doesn't want knowing.
> 
> The King of Camelot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long - college started again, and I've been swamped.

She met Arthur at precisely ten minutes past seven, a plate of cold and partially eaten breakfast resting on one hand and a goblet of lukewarm water in the other, a beaming smile fixed on her face.

"Rise and shine!" Merlin sang warmly, setting the plate and goblet down and opening the curtains, letting in the warm late summer sun. There was an answering groan from the bed, and she realised perhaps she should have arrived at ten  _to_ seven - perhaps then Arthur would be reacting to her by now. "I  _said_ ; rise and shine!"

"Mrrrghl..." Arthur replied, shoving his head beneath his goose-feather pillow that was probably softer than her entire bed. "Mofwy."

"I didn't know you could speak another language," Merlin said, in shocked amusement. She rounded the bed, observing his sleeping form - he looked...  _nice_ , topless and sleepy-eyed and utterly loathing of her. "C'mon...  _wake up_."

"No," he mumbled.

Merlin made an impressed sound. "Your first legible word; great!"

"Mrrrghl..." Arthur repeated, finally withdrawing from the pillow. "Go... away..."

"I will when you say my name."

" _Mrrrghl..._ Mrrlin..." Arthur gave a great groan, her name coming out gravelly. " _Mer_ lin."

It made her heart go all fluttery but Merlin, as always, ignored it. "Rise and shine!"

"That's the third time you've said that," Arthur said, sitting up. The blankets pooled around his waist, showing off his lick-worthy abs. Merlin, following her precedent of 'ignoring him and his glorious body at all costs', proudly showed him the breakfast she'd carefully selected and eaten half of.

"I made it myself."

"I don't even think that's  _cooked_ ," Arthur said, with some disgust.

"Of course it is," her eyes flashed momentarily gold as he looked away for a moment to reach for the plate. "Trust me,  _that_ is the finest breakfast in all Camelot."

He eyed her suspiciously, as if doubting her intellect (that wasn't too surprising). "I have a tournament all week, I can't be ill."

" _Arthur_ ," she stressed the word. "Trust me. I saved your life last night - would I really put it in risk now?"

"Ugh. If this is poisoned you'll be in the stocks for a week, I swear."

"I think poisoning the Prince gets a higher penalty than being pelted with fruit, but I won't complain." Merlin moved away as he ate, smiling pleasantly as he began eating. "I should mention, your father's manservant - Richard - stopped me in the hallway to say your father was expecting you for lunch tomorrow. He said I should tell you today, so you could... know?"

Merlin shook her head, moving over to the wardrobe. Last night, after Gaius had given her his old magic book so she could refine her skills and not accidentally reveal herself as a prophesied sorceress fated to help Arthur bring Albion to its greatest, she was escorted to his private quarters and given a long list of chores; _feed the dogs, clean them out, muck out the stables, polish my armor, sharpen my sword_ , etc. Merlin had, naturally, used her magic; the dogs now followed her every command, the horses calmly waited as she shoveled their shit, and the mound of armor Arthur had practically cleaned itself. Arthur's sword was a bit trickier, but eventually Merlin beat it into submission. Though she was reluctant to do so, she knew that organising Arthur's outfits and helping him dress was part of the maidservant day-to-day chores.

"Richard has been my father's manservant for longer than I've been alive," Arthur said, around his mouthful of food. "He's told me today because he knows my father will only think to ask tomorrow."

Merlin considered his words as she ruffled through his clothes. He had many different shirts with a variety of colours; red, blue, purple (a rare colour restricted for royalty or those with enough coin to buy it) and a few lovely white shirts (one of which had a lower neckline, and would surely show off his collarbones). There were a few other colours, but Merlin picked a white one, stoking the sleeve. She'd spotted a leather jacket earlier that would go wonderful with it...

"Of course, I might not be able to make lunch with Father. The tournament starts tomorrow, and I'm sure to be busy with that." Arthur paused. "What are you doing?"

"Picking out your outfit!" Merlin happily replied. The white would make his eyes pop, and the leather jacket with small studs would define his biceps.

"You're such a  _girl_ ,"

She turned around, fixing a dry look on his face. "After last night, I'm surprised you haven't already noticed that." Merlin turned back to the wardrobe. "' _Father,_ '." she began. "' _There are two perfectly large reasons why Merlin cannot be my 'man' servant_ '."

"And as I said after that, I was talking about your  _ears_."

"Yet you weren't looking at them," Merlin said it beneath her breath, but the the sudden choke from behind showed that Arthur clearly heard her. "There's a tournament?"

"It's held once a year, to determine the greatest knight in the realm." Arthur groaned as he stood from the bed, rolling his shoulders. "I've held the title since I was fifteen."

Merlin frowned. "You were a knight at  _fifteen_?"

"No, I was a Prince, that's just as good." Arthur walked forwards, stopping just short of her back. "Did you polish my armor?"

"Yes," she was rather proud of all that she'd accomplished, really. "And I made sure that your sword was the sharpest it's ever been!"

Arthur raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Then go and  _get it_ while I change."

 _Oh thank the Triple Goddess, he isn't going to get naked in front of me._ "Okay!"

" _Mer_ lin," he said, before she could flee the room. "One last thing."

Shoulders slumped, she turned to him. "Yes?"

"Next time you decide to eat half of my breakfast, make sure not to leave a piece of sausage behind," Arthur smiled a bit mockingly, throwing said piece of sausage at her head, where it bounced off her scowling forehead. "Now get out and remember to bring my sword!"

"Oh, I'll bring your sword alright," Merlin angrily muttered as she left his quarters. "And I'll shove it where the sun doesn't bloody shine."

* * *

 

When Arthur had first informed Merlin that he would be spending the day training, she'd imagined a lovely afternoon where she was allowed to bathe in the sunlight while he hit things with his sword. Instead,  _she_ was the one being hit. Repeatedly. It hurt.

With a groan, she flipped the visor of her helmet up, meeting his amused eyes with a glare. "Can we stop soon?"

" _Mer_ lin," Arthur began in a tone that was already too familiar. "I have to fight twenty of the greatest knights in all Albion. To do that, I need to practice."

"There are other people available!" Merlin continued to protest. "Like Leon or Frederick or that one with the lazy eye-"

"Sir Kay."

"Him!" Merlin snapped her fingers triumphantly. "Can't you hit  _them_?"

"They're in the competition too,  _Mer_ lin, I'd be giving them an advantage."

"They'll need one if they're fighting you."

Arthur beamed at the compliment she hadn't really meant to give, swinging his sword around happily. "Well, I  _have_ been trained to kill since birth."

"Yeah?" Merlin rolled her eyes. "I suppose you've been in training to be a prat since then, too."

That wiped the smile off his face. " _Mer_ lin, you can't speak to me like that."

"Oh, I'm  _so_ sorry," she did a mock bow. "I suppose you've been in training to be a prat since then, too, my lord."

"That's better," Arthur said, sarcastically. "Now, are you ready to go again?"

Merlin scoffed. "Would it make any difference if I said no?"

"Not really."

Arthur waited until she re-raised the visor and drew her sword, then began an absolutely  _brutal_ attack on her person. He was decent enough to call out the body part he was about to hit, but it didn't really help because she only had around 0.4 seconds to shield herself.

"Body," he began, hitting there. "Shield, body, shield-"

Merlin deflected the blows as best she could, and suddenly found herself an opportunity. "Shield!"

He raised his shield in time, but still gave a surprised shout when her sword actually managed to hit its target. "Head," he replied.

"Head?" Merlin paused, confused, and let out a loud moan when the hilt of his sword clanged down onto her helmet. "Ow."

"Come on, _Mer_ lin, you're not even trying." Arthur proved his point by taking the time to slam the flat side of his sword into her back, sending her staggering. "This is pathetic."

"It is not!" Merlin defended herself, angrily. "I'm trying as best I can!"

"Yes, but you're 'best' is quite possibly worse than _my_ worst." Arthur rolled his eyes. "Once more."

Merlin groaned. "Oh, _nooo_." 

They sparred some more, Merlin actually getting better, surprising everyone involved. It was going relatively well until Arthur hit her head again, causing her to go sprawling into the mud. Her helmet rolled off backwards, exposing her red, panting face. Arthur watched from above with a single raised eyebrow, an impressed look in his eyes.

"You're braver than you look, you know." He said, almost conversationally. "Most servants collapse after the first blow. I was expecting you to be the same."

"Why?" Merlin barely even heard herself ask it, winded as she would. She  _did_ hear Arthur's answer, however.

"Because I can take most people apart with a single blow." He frowned at her laugh, shifting a hip as the impressed look turned into an accusing one. "What's so funny?"

She gave a slight grin. "Because I could finish you off with less than a blow."  _With magic. Not a sword. Semantics._

"Really?" Arthur obviously didn't believe her, snorting as she stood up. "Because I can't  _see_ it. You need muscles from training and scars from practices gone wrong. You're just... a short, small streak with big ears."

"I have muscles, Arthur," Merlin assured him. "And I'd be worried if you could see them. And I do too have a scar, on my wrist-" Said body part was unceremoniously shoved in his face. "A cow bit me when I was four and it scarred. It looks really cool, actually."

"Ah, the lives of commoners are so exciting." Arthur rolled his eyes again, pausing for a moment. "Alright then, if you're so good, let's see it. Pick a weapon,  _Mer_ lin."

Merlin didn't move, instead staring at him warily. "Is... is this a trick?"

"Now why would I do that?"

"Because you'd love to see me in the stocks?" She correctly guessed. "I  _really_ don't want that to happen again, I'm still picking out cherries from my bo- person."

" _Mer_ lin," Arthur began assuredly, which only made her panic more. "I promise, on my honor - and I'm a Prince of Camelot, so that means something - that I will  _not_ send you to the stocks if you spar properly with me."

There was something in that sentence that made Merlin squint her eyes at him. "Isn't  _this_ sparring 'properly'?"

Arthur snorted. "It'd be 'proper' if you could actually fight using a sword and shield, which you obviously can't."

"I get distracted," Merlin admitted, flushing. "Because I have to hit with the sword and block with the shield and sometimes you block with the sword and hit with the shield, honestly, it's so  _confusing_."

"Then pick a different weapon," said Arthur, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. For him, it probably was. "There is a massive rack of them there."

 _Speaking of massive racks..._ "Can I get a different set of armor next time?" She asked, rubbing at the slightly rusted steel. "This stuff chafes my chest."

"I'm not saying there  _will_ be a next time," Arthur muttered. "Just pick a weapon so I can see how terrible you are."

The joke was on him, though, as Merlin had quite a bit of training with greatswords. Percival, on his irregular visits to Ealdor, had taught Merlin much after she'd questioned his love for the massive swords, and had declared her a natural at swinging them around. It was natural, then, that she dropped the sword and shield and picked up a greatsword that was almost as tall as she was.

Arthur burst out laughing behind her. " _Mer_ lin, I don't even think you can lift that up."

It was with a grin that she showed him just how high she could lift - and swing - it.

* * *

 

"You haven't even been here a week," Gaius began, as she entered their rooms later that night. "And already, you entering covered in fruit is a normal sight."

"There are potatoes too," Merlin morosely told him, picking out some lettuce from behind her ear. " _Rotten_ potatoes."

"What did you call him this time?"

 "I didn't call him  _anything_!" If asked, Merlin would say it wasn't a whine, but if the same person asked Gaius, he would  _definitely_  say it was a whine. "I mean, why ask to fight someone if you don't want an actual fight?"

Gaius raised the eyebrow that now haunted Merlin's dreams (featuring among burning pyres, dying Arthur's and, for some odd reason, a delicate-looking sword) and didn't lift a hand as she continued pulling various fruits and vegetables from her body. "You fought Arthur?"

"He wanted to train for the tournament taking place this week," she explained, doing an odd dance to try and reach an apple that had fallen halfway down her back. "And he wanted me to help, so he said 'pick a weapon' and I did and then I knocked him down and he  _throws me into the stocks_!" Fuming, Merlin span to face Gaius. "I beat him fair and square  _after_ he said he wouldn't get me locked up. Lying, cheating, arrogant, selfish, stuck-up-"

The door swung open, revealing the object of both Merlin's anger and affections.

"Ah," Arthur smiled warmly. "I heard they let you out. Did you enjoy your time in the stocks?"

"Camelot enjoyed a bountiful harvest this year, my lord," Merlin said, through gritted teeth.

"Indeed it did," Arthur continued to smile as he walked forward, emptying a huge sack of absolutely filthy armor onto Gaius' clean table. "And here, your evening chore."

"But- but-" Merlin spluttered. "That'll take me all night!"

"Oh, it  _won't_." Arthur patted her on the shoulder. "Actually, it can't; the opening ceremony for the tournament is at eight o'clock sharp tomorrow morning and I have to be in my armor for that, so... I'd get started sooner rather than later."

"When am I supposed to eat?" She asked, following him to the door. "And sleep? Is bathing even an option?"

Arthur wrinkled his nose. "Judging from the smell, I'd say it's an option you should strongly consider."

Merlin watched him leave with a murderous look in her eyes, and it only grew stronger when Arthur popped his head back around the door, a charming yet infuriating smile on his equally charming and infuriating face.

"Oh, and another thing, I want to be up at six for an early morning training session, and, this time, try  _not_ to eat half of my breakfast."

Unknown to Arthur, a heavy vase to his left began levitating towards his head.

"But,  _sire_ , eating too much will make you feel bloated. That won't help with the tournament," Merlin said, keeping him occupied as she lined the vase up perfectly. If she applied just the  _right_ amount of pressure, it'd go flying straight into-

"Merlin!" Gaius warned her. "As your master, Prince Arthur is well within his right to request that you not steal from him."

She knew that it wasn't his point - his point was ' _don't kill the Prince_ ' - but backed down anyway. "Yes. I'll... refrain myself from touching your food."

Arthur smiled, closing the door behind him. Merlin, on the other hand, collapsed onto the bench, dropping her head down onto the table. She still wore her armor from the training session, and began taking it off one-handed.

"This is terrible," she complained, dropping her head to the wooden table. "I've got all this to do  _and_ I've got to learn about tournament etiquette by the morning."

Gaius stood behind her, considering her words for a moment before slapping the back of her head. Merlin flinched, arching away from the touch. "What've I told you about using magic like that? If Arthur had turned around-"

"I know, I  _know_ ," Merlin let out a grateful sound when Gaius began massaging her shoulders. "But he's so bloody annoying. Eight hours in the stocks, just because I hurt his ego! Ugh."

"You should have known better," Gaius said, unforgiving. "Arthur is a  _Prince_. He prides himself on being better - he has to be better, if he is to rule Camelot like his father."

"It's not just that," Merlin muttered. "My magic's acting a bit off. It's like I can't completely control it anymore, which is odd, because I've  _always_  controlled my magic - even when I was a child."

"Perhaps it's the change of environment."

Merlin tilted her head to meet his gaze, blue eyes doubtful. "It feels like my magic is fighting me, to be honest, like it  _wants_ to be seen. I can't explain it, but- ow!"

Gaius continued his painful massage, ignoring her cries. "You should go talk to the Great Dragon again - he might have advice. Dragons are, by their very nature, creatures of magic. He will surely know more than I."

"I don't have the time, remember?" Merlin rolled her eyes. "I save Arthur's life and end up as his serving girl. How's that  _fair_?"

"I'm not sure fairness comes into it, Merlin. You never know," Gaius added a fake cheerfulness to his tone. "It might be fun."

Merlin couldn't hold in her scoff. "I have to muck out his stables - d'you think that sounds 'fun'?"

"We all have our duties," he said sagely. "Even Arthur."

"Oh, yes," Merlin rolled her eyes. "It must be ever so tough for  _him_ , with the girls and the glory and the fact he's the bleeding Prince."

"He is also the future  _King_ ," Gaius reminded her.

 _The Once and Future King_ , a traitorous voice whispered in her mind (it sounded a lot like Kilgharrah),  _he whom is destined to rule all of Albion and leave the greatest legacy ever known to mankind._

"-especially so with Uther's expectations," Gaius was saying, not knowing his charge had zoned completely out. "Arthur is under a lot of pressure."

As he said that, he pressed down on a particularly sore spot on Merlin's back, and she let out a whimper. "That makes two of us."

"You should get started on the etiquette while I make dinner," he suggested, stepping back.

Merlin nodded along, looking for the book she'd gotten earlier from the library. "  _Onhríne achtung bregdan_!" She ducked instinctively, avoiding Gaius' second slap. "If I could move my arms I'd get it myself!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is un-betaed so any mistakes are my own. The reason why it hasn't been updated in a while is because college started and i've rlly been swamped. i have like six different classes per week plus a work placement, and frankly i haven't had the time to even think about merlin for this past week.


	7. Say my name, say my name (except don't 'cause I really don't like you that much)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin decides she really does quite like Gwen and her father, but she really doesn't like Arthur - or waking him up, which is needlessly more difficult than it really ought to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COLLEGE SUCKS  
> but on the plus side Fallout 4 is amazing  
> I'd also like to send my thoughts to those affected by what happened in France.

It was by pure luck that Merlin found herself in Guinevere's house later that night, her father (Tom) wearing Arthur's not-yet-cleaned chainmail. She'd been traveling to the Armory to fetch some polish (how else would she clean his armor?) when she ran into Morgana's maidservant. After explaining her problem to her, Gwen had insisted she visit her home so she could help, but only after making sure Morgana didn't need her for the rest of the night (Morgana didn't; she wanted an early night so she would be well rested for the tournament tomorrow).

"Thank you for this," Merlin said. "Really. I only got the job yesterday, and Arthur - I mean, the  _Prince_ just expects me to know everything."

"It's fine," Tom waved a hand. "Any friend of Gwen's is a friend of mine."

"And by that he means he wouldn't dare say no to his darling daughter," Gwen herself said, entering the house with a basket of food. "Sorry I took so long, the butcher's was packed. Morris says hi." She set the basket down on the table, then gestured Merlin to follow her over to where Tom was stood, his chainmail shining in the dim light. "So, what do you know about armor?"

"It protects you from getting hit and makes Arthur look even fatter than usual," Merlin promptly told her.

" _Merlin_!" Gwen hissed, scandalized. "You can't say that about the Prince!"

"Why?" Merlin asked. "It's not like he can hear me, is it? And be honest, it  _does_ make him look fat, doesn't it?"

"It's the underpadding," Tom explained, awkwardly shifting. "Bulks up the exterior so there's less chance of stray hits."

"Surely there being less of Arthur would make it easier for him to not get hit?"

Gwen sighed, turning to her father as though Merlin weren't there. "I told you she was like this."

"You did," Tom said, returning the sigh. "I should have listened."

"What?" Merlin asked, feeling  _extremely_ offended. "I'm not 'like' anything! I'm a perfectly normal, nice girl who got - oh you're joking, aren't you?" She scowled as father and daughter began laughing, even as her lips tugged up into a smile that she quickly hid. "Oh, very nice, Gwen, invite me into your home only to ridicule me."

"I'm sorry, Merlin," Gwen didn't seem very sincere as she apologized. "But it was too easy."

Merlin huffed, rolling her eyes. "So this is what Camelot hospitality is like, huh? It leaves  _much_ to be desired."

Gwen giggled as she tugged on the other girl's arm, bringing her closer to the armor lying haphazardly on the table. "So I take it you don't know what  _any_ of this is for?"

"Um..." Her dark blue eyes glanced up and down the pile of armor, her mind completely failing to bring anything to her attention. And she quite needed it now, too; her past life  _surely_ knew of these things, what with him serving as Arthur's manservant for a whole decade.

 _Just remember_ , she ordered her mind, squinting harshly.  _Just one single thing; remember._

"I guess not," Gwen said, after taking a look at Merlin's blank face. "Alright, so the hau-"

_"Honestly, Merlin," Arthur's condescending voice began, drifting across the other side of the campfire. "How long have you been my manservant now?_

_"Five or so years," Merlin answered, without so much as glancing up from his work. "Feels longer."_

_"It does, true." Arthur made a noise of consideration, slouching back against the tree he was sat against. "Five long tedious years of having the worst possible manservant ever."_

_Merlin rolled his eyes. "If it weren't for the 'worst possible manservant ever' you'd be without arms and armor."_

_"I don't need a sword to kill someone, **Mer** lin, it just makes the job easier." He sighed. "Besides, my armor is only in such poor condition because you were shirking your duties earlier." **  
**_

_"You were distracting me earlier," Merlin muttered. "And you definitely weren't complaining then."_

_"The term 'distracting' is a strong one."_

_"Yet incredibly apt." Merlin looked up, meeting Arthur's gaze. In an incredibly unique moment, the two men smiled softly at each other. The forest was loud and full of life, yet in that moment neither King nor warlock cared for anything other than themselves. Merlin moved forwards before he even knew he **was** moving, Arthur leaving the tree behind to meet him halfway; their lips met mid-air, fingers brushing._

"Did you hear anything I just said?" Gwen asked, amused. "Because it looks like you just drifted off."

"Voiders on the arms, hauberk on the chest, helmet on the head." Merlin recited, her mind still inside that forest. That was... unexpected. Sure, Kilgharrah said that Merlin had been in love with Arthur in that other world but he  _never_ said that Arthur lo-  _cared_ for Merlin too. What of Gwen? Merlin met the woman's eyes, feeling suddenly wary.

She remembered talking to him inside the cave...

_"Everything I remember has Arthur in it, somewhere," Merlin said, with suspicion lacing her tone. "Every. Single. Memory. I remember Morgana trapping me in that cave but I was only thinking about how I couldn't save his life. I was obsessed with the man!"_

_"You were in love," Kilgharrah said sagely._

That had happened again; she was gifted with the knowledge of Arthur's armor but it came with the cost of another memory of Arthur himself. Then, after that, she'd asked after-

_"That was very foolish, young warlock," Kilgharrah scolded. "Your magic is keyed to your emotions - you must control it."_

_"Yeah, well, I was just told that the prat upstairs who keeps asking me to get on my knees is also the person my former self fell in love with." Merlin wrinkled her nose in disgust. "What did I see him in?"_

_"Courage, bravery," Kilgharrah began listing off. "A keen strategic mind, someone who never put himself over his subjects, and intense loyalty to those he loved. His heart burned so brightly for Queen Guinevere that he loved even her when Morgana turned her heart dark."_

_**Guinevere... Guinevere...**  "You mean Gwen?!" Merlin shouted, at the top of her voice. "Gwen's his Queen?"_

_Kilgharrah shuffled, not meeting her gaze. "In... **that**  realm, yes."_

What did Kilgharrah mean by 'that' realm? Was Gwen not destined to be Queen in this world? With her brow furrowed, Merlin wondered why it'd changed.  Who could draw Arthur's eye away from his oh-so lovely Queen Guinevere?

"This is important stuff, Merlin," Gwen herself explained, beginning to take the armor off her father. Tom helped, but he remained strangely quiet. "Arthur won't expect you to know, but at the same time he will. All of his previous servants knew how to take care of his armor and how to put it on him, but they were men. You're - well, you're obviously  _not_ so he thinks you won't know how."

Merlin was a woman, ergo  _of course_ she wouldn't know how- wait. Merlin was a woman.

"You're right," she said, disjointed. She couldn't believe she hadn't realized before - then again, it hadn't been made so perfectly  _clear_ before. "Arthur does expect the best from his maidservant."

"If he gets insufferable, just ignore it." Gwen smiled politely. "I heard he threw you into the stocks again. Did you really beat him in a sparring session?"

"He wasn't expecting me to be so good with a greatsword," Merlin hesitantly explained, shrugging her shoulders in a ' _what can you do_ ' manner. "I sort of expected it, to be honest."

"Arthur'll warm up."

Tom snorted loudly. "D'you remember what he did to your brother? The man's a brat."

"Elyan... Elyan should've known that saying such things to the Prince of Camelot would have dire consequences," Gwen murmured, avoiding her father's gaze. "Especially so in front of the King himself."

"What happened?" Merlin asked. Then, realizing how impolite she'd just been, immediately backtracked. "Oh, Gods, that was incredibly rude - sorry, I'm not usually so blunt."

"It's fine," Gwen said, waving a hand. "Come on, help me collect this armor and take it back to the castle. I'll... tell you on the way, if you'd like."

Five minutes later they were on the streets of Camelot, the two ladies carrying an armful of sweaty armor each. To save space, Merlin had resorted to wearing the chainmail herself, the metal cool on her bare collarbone.

"Elyan argued with Arthur?"

"It was a year ago," Gwen explained. "A plague ravished the whole kingdom. People were dying, there was no cure... it was utter bedlam. My mother... she got sick fairly early on, but the symptoms were slow to appear, so by the time we knew it was almost too late."

"Almost?" Merlin repeated. She didn't like where this was headed.

"Gaius discovered a cure, made from a rare root found in Brittany. Incredibly expensive to import, but achievable." Gwen stopped in the street, fixing her dark hazel eyes on the grand white castle. "Uther bought enough for the nobles who were sick - Arthur among them. Everyone else... he let them  _die_. Elyan was so enraged that he stormed straight into the Prince's training session and threw down his gauntlet."

"I like his style," Merlin muttered, with a bit of respect. It took a lot of guts for a man - a  _peasant_ \- to stroll up to a future King and lay down a challenge. "I'm guessing it didn't go down well?"

Gwen gave her a look, raising an eyebrow. "Arthur would have accepted the challenge if Uther and the other Knights weren't there. They laughed Elyan out of Camelot. He still hasn't returned."

"Gods, Gwen, I'm so sorry." Merlin patted the other girl on the shoulder. "I knew Arthur was a dingbat, but I didn't think-"

"It wasn't Arthur," Gwen said, shaking her head. "Not really. My father just doesn't like him because... well, only thirteen nobles were cured, but there were over fifty villagers that got the plague. Arthur was alive and mother had just passed. I suppose for them it was easier to blame rather than grieve."

 _Sounds familiar_. Merlin's grip on Gwen's shoulder tightened, causing the darker skinned girl to look up. "How about I take this back and you go home? You look tired."

"I've had a long week," Gwen admitted. "Lady Morgana's having nightmares again, I'm afraid."

Her interest piqued, Merlin stopped taking pieces of armor off from Gwen. "Her nightmares are bad? How long have they been like that?"

"A few weeks," Gwen shrugged. "They got worse when that sorcerer was executed the other day. We're planning another ride to the woods so she can clear her mind. A few hours alone near the lake really clears her mind."

A bad feeling entered Merlin's body as she said goodbye to Gwen; Morgana,  _alone_? In the woods? After having bad nightmares? Merlin might not remember much from that other world, but she knew enough to be worried.

* * *

Merlin stumbled into Arthur's chambers early the next morning, half-asleep herself. She had brought an (untouched) plate of breakfast that wouldn't be too heavy on his stomach, and a goblet of wine (for the nerves).

"Rise and shine!" Merlin declared, not even faking surprise when Arthur simply snored in response. She tempted the idea of waking him up by throwing the wine in his face, but then decided she wasn't missing the stocks  _that_ much, and instead settled on the less appealing of trying to coerce him up. "Arthur, wake up."

He didn't even pause in his next snore.

" _Arthur_ ," she repeated, pushing on his firm shoulder. "Wakey wakey rise and... shakey." Frowning at her own poor attempt at rhyme, Merlin prodded Arthur again. "You have to get up."

"Merlin," Arthur began, before stopping. He rolled over, nestling into the blankets. " _Merrrlinn_."

"Yes, yes," she waved her hands. "It's me - we've already made that clear - now will you please get up?

"Merlin," he repeated.

The woman herself paused, observing his closed eyes and overwhelmingly happy expression. "Are... are you still asleep?"

"Mer-"

"I get it!" Merlin said, in a very, very high-pitched voice. "By the Gods, you're saying my name in your sleep! Kilgharrah said this wouldn't happen!"

Well,  _actually_ , Kilgharrah had said; "Young warlock, there's more chance of Uther marrying a troll than you being Arthur's Queen." - which pretty much summed up the entire thing. Still, it didn't ease Merlin's heavy heart. It was  _completely_ wrong for her to even entertain the idea that, one day, she and Arthur might look at each other and not feel an intense sense of loathing.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," Merlin recalled, right before she brought up two spare plates and began banging them together. "WAKE UP! WAKE UP! RISE AND SHINE 'CAUSE IT'S TIME TO...  _do_ something."

Arthur groaned, his eyes slowly dragging open. "What... ugh... what's that racket?"

"I had to wake you up somehow," Merlin explained, dropping the plates onto the floor and causing even more sound. "And saying your name didn't really work. Pleasant dreams?"

"Uh..." For the first time since meeting him, Arthur actually hesitated. "It was... unique."

 _I bet it was._ "Was it about anything in particular?" Merlin continued to ask, as if she didn't know. "Nothing your father would be ashamed of, I hope."

Arthur rolled his eyes, dragging his eyes away from her and to his breakfast. "Is that it?" 

"You don't want a heavy breakfast, do you?" Merlin shook her head, trying - and failing - to rid her mind of any thoughts that contained Arthur  _dreaming_ of her. "All that fighting and moving... a nice, quick meal would serve you better."

"It takes most servants entire years to learn that trick," Arthur noted. "I want a bath."

Merlin groaned. "But there's- oh, fine!"

"You know, as you're my servant-"

"I prefer the term 'freelance personal assistant'," she informed him.

Arthur swung his feet over the side of his bed, running a hand through his hair. "Most people would be happy to be my servant."

"I'd rather die first," Merlin snapped. "I'll get your bath ready, my lord."


	8. The First Of Many

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the tournament rolls around, Merlin cannot help but feel apprehensive. She might not remember much, but there's something about this tournament - and Knight Valiant, in particular - that rubs her the wrong way.  
> Or maybe she just has indigestion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> college continues to suck and I would again like to send my thoughts to those murdered in Paris.

Merlin was yawning later that morning when she and Arthur crossed the training yard where they'd first met, which was now full of tents of various colours, but they were headed to the one covered in the traditional Pendragon red. It'd been explained to her - from Gaius, not Arthur, who insisted she already know everything - that it was also tradition that the hosts of a tournament would make sure the knights from across Albion would all have a safe place to rest between battles. Merlin, however, was curious to which knight thought that a pastel yellow on a bright blue background would be a  _good_ coat of arms. Ugh.

" _Mer_ lin," Arthur's grating voice said. "Enough mooning over the knights and start doing your job."

"I  _am_ doing my job," Merlin replied, ignoring his other remark. If anyone was  _mooning_ , it'd be him - he was saying her name in his sleep, for Gods' sake! "In fact, I was up until near midnight doing the tasks you set me."

"Then you should have finished them, shouldn't you?" Arthur raised his arm, inspecting the vambrace. "I can see a smudge here,  _Mer_ lin. An actual smudge."

Meeting his gaze, Merlin unflinchingly licked the palm of her hand and ran it across the smudge, then took the loose edge of her sleeve to rub the metal. "There, see? It's gone."

Arthur now looked at his vambrace with barely concealed disgust. "I... don't think that's how you're supposed to clean them."

"You haven't cleaned a thing in your life," she pointed out. "How do you know servants don't clean  _everything_ like that? The chamber pots, the pots, the plates - your cutlery, even, sire." Arthur turned a faint green colour, until his eyes narrowed.

"You're being ridiculous, you know. I'm the  _Prince_ of Camelot - the future King. I think I'd know if that's how things were cleaned." His tone was slightly unstable, Merlin noticed. "Now do the other vambrace."

She pulled a face at the request, but her lowered her head to hide the expression. Fumbling with the strap, she let loose a few mumbled curse. "Stupid piece of steel... just fasten..."

"You  _do_ know the tournament starts today, Merlin?" Arthur asked, annoyed.

"Yes, sire," Merlin said, her fingers trailing up his arm to reach the buckle on his gorget. Arthur stiffened, and when she glanced up he was staring ahead, a tinge to his cheeks. "You look nervous."

"I don't get nervous," Arthur snapped, batting her hands away.

"What, really?" Merlin moved to grab his cloak, continuing under her breath. "I thought everyone got nervous."

Arthur let out a growl. "Will you  _shut_ up?!"

Sheepishly, Merlin reached up on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. It was different, being this close - practically  _hugging_ him - and Merlin made a Very Big Mistake when she happened to meet his gaze. Blushing, she dropped her eyes to the buckle of his cape, fastening it quickly then stepping away. "Done," she announced. "Except, wait-"

Merlin turned on her heel, grabbing his sword and helmet and shoving them into his hands. "D'you need your shield, too? Sire."

Arthur replied with a steely glare, marching off to the main fighting grounds.

"That went well," Merlin muttered, before following. She had enough sense to wait at the entrance of the arena when Arthur and the other knights approached the centre, kicking up sand as they did so. King Uther waited in the middle, observing them with cold eyes.

"Knights of the realm," he began, strutting in front of them. "It's a great honour to welcome you to a tournament at Camelot. Over the next..."

Merlin zoned out, looking out across the stands. She saw Gwen and Morgana sat next to each other, talking under her breath - Morgana's green eyes were fixed on a knight dressed in bright yellow with an insignia of three green snakes on his shield. Once again, Merlin felt uneasy. She'd spoken to Kilgharrah last night, where they'd talked long and hard of her suspicions about Morgana. Kilgharrah had, as always, suggested that Merlin assassinate Morgana in her sleep, but Merlin had argued about that. She didn't  _know_ that Morgana was up to something - and, really, killing someone over a bad instinct was insane.

"-and he will receive a prize of one thousand gold pieces." Uther re-caught Merlin's attention, and he gestured to a box held by Richard, his manservant. Richard, taking his cue, opened the box to reveal a pile of shiny gold coins - the crowd 'oohed' and 'aahed' in response. "It is in combat we learn a knight's true nature, whether he is indeed a warrior or a coward. The tournament begins!"

The crowd cheered as Uther finished his speech, the knights taking their leave. Merlin hesitantly approached Arthur, knowing that - as the defending champion - he would be the first to compete. Uther fixed a look at her when she was halfway across the sand, causing her to slow down. He placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder, muttering into his ear - she didn't have to hear his voice to know what he'd said. It'd be something similar to 'make me proud', for that was all Uther really wanted from his son - a young Prince who would one day become a King Uther would be proud of.

Merlin passed the King as she made her way to Arthur, quickly taking his cloak and giving him his shield. "Good luck," she whispered, before fleeing back to safety. Leaning on a wooden post, Merlin watched as Arthur and the knight he fought - his name was Logsbold - waited until Uther reached his chair before beginning their fight.

Immediately it became clear that Arthur was the better swordsman - he always knew when to strike, whereas Logsbold hit Arthur's shield more than Arthur himself. True, Logsbold  _was_ good his mace (he got rather a good shot in at Arthur's ribs, which was sure to bruise), and Merlin gasped when Arthur's sword clanged off Logsbold's suddenly-raised shield, sending the Prince flying.

"Come on!" Merlin cheered, along with many other spectators. So, really, it wasn't like she was cheering  _for_ Arthur, she was just taking part in an activity that many other people were enjoying. "You can beat him!"

Arthur sent a swing upwards, catching Logsbold's wrist, sending the green knight's mace flying. Keeping up the offensive, Arthur hit various parts of Logsbold - his arms, his sides, even his kneecaps -causing the man to stumble, sprawling out on the sand.

"Congrats," Merlin said, when Arthur had returned to her side after bowing to the crowd.

"I haven't held the title for so long because I lost in the first round, Merlin." He replied, resting where she had previously. "Ugh, I need a drink." Removing his helmet, Arthur ran an arm across his forehead, wiping away the sweat there. "I've fought Logsbold in the first round for the past three years. He was... surprisingly better than usual."

"He's been beaten by the same man for three years in a row - that's probably why," Merlin told him, handing over his water skin. "Don't worry, I didn't spit in it, sire."

Arthur, who had been raising the neck of the water skin to his mouth, paused. "Why would I even worry about that?"

"You wouldn't," she assured him. "But I just wanted you to know that  _this_ time, I haven't spat in it."

Grumbling, he lowered the skin. "You're quite possibly the worst servant I've ever had."

"That's because - woah," her attention was caught by the knight in yellow Morgana had been looking at earlier. He was competing now, and his brutal style of attack was unique. "He's rather good, isn't he?"

"That's Knight Valiant, of the Western Isles." Arthur told her, he too looked at the fighting knight. "He hasn't competed before."

She let out a low whistle as Valiant cut down his opponent - leaving the other man wheezing in the sand. Blood dripped from Valiant's sword, and Merlin watched as Gaius hurried across the arena.

"He looks pretty handy with a sword," she noted. "Like...  _deadly_ handly."

Arthur didn't answer, his gaze fixed on Knight Valiant as he left the arena and made his way past them, his servant trailing behind him. He was almost to his tent before he turned back, striding with a purpose towards where Arthur and Merlin stood, watching him with equal levels of distrust.

"My lord," Valiant bowed. "May I offer my congratulations on your victories today?"

"Likewise," said Arthur, shuffling. He took a swig of water, though Merlin knew it was more of an excuse to avoid saying anything else.

"I hope to see you at the reception this evening," Valiant continued, oblivious to Arthur's attempts at ending their conversation. "And your betrothed, too." He added another bow towards Merlin, causing Arthur to- well, he didn't  _splutter_ , because he was a Prince, but if it was a splutter, it was a very regal, Prince-y one.

"She- what-"

"We're not betrothed!" Merlin quickly told him, her voice coming out high-pitched. "I'm his maidservant, actually."

"Ah," Valiant smiled, taking the hand Merlin had definitely  _not_ offered, and kissing it. "Then I will especially look forward to seeing you later."

Merlin watched him go, faking a smile until he had disappeared inside his tent. Then, dropping the smile, she let out a moan of disgust and began wiping the back of her hand on her dress. "Creep."

Arthur, still a bit watery-eyed from his spluttering fit, let out a snort of amusement. Merlin turned to meet his gaze, surprised that she'd gotten him to laugh, a wide grin spreading across her face. It was wiped away, however, when Arthur began talking.

"Uh," he looked away, frowning slightly. "For tomorrow you need to repair my shield, wash my tunic, clean my boots, polish my chainmail, and sharpen my sword."

"Arthur, you've only used it once today," Merlin pointed out. "Surely I don't need to sharpen your sword after just  _one_ battle?"

"A blunt sword is useless,  _Mer_ lin," Arthur said, recovering some of his usual prattiness. For a moment or two, he seemed like a nice person. A nice, moderately attractive person. "And this is important. You  _must_ remember to polish and sharpen my sword everyday."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "I'm  _not_ polishing your sword once a day. I barely have enough time for my actual chores, never mind ridiculous ones that aren't even-"

"Merlin, say Camelot's attacked, and I'm cornered with no guards." Arthur tapped the hilt of his sword. "The sharpness of this object will be all that stands between Camelot's Prince surviving and the opposite."

"Couldn't you fight your way out with your bare hands?" Merlin asked. "Since you've been 'trained to kill since birth' and all that rubbish."

Arthur glared. "Keep talking like that and you'll-"

"End up in the stocks?" Merlin guessed. "Or will I have the 'personal pleasure' of coming face-to-face with your oh so mighty sword?"

Even to her own ears, that sounded wrong, but Merlin had long ago fallen down the rabbit hole, and accidentally making a possible reference to Arthur's _sword_ was the least of her problems. What actually  _was_ concerning was when she turned away, her cheeks tinted pink, just in time to catch the back of Morgana's slim form as she slipped into Valiant's tent.

The witch was up to something.

* * *

 

The book Gaius had given her was simply fascinating. True, she already had the expertise to cast most of the spells, so no practice was really necessary, but the sheer amount of different incantations and enchantments boggled Merlin completely. It was no secret that Gaius had openly supported King Uther during the Great Purge twenty years ago, so the fact that Gaius once  _used_ magic - and still kept an old spellbook around was... unexpected.

Merlin was taking an hour to herself, the chores Arthur had set her completing themselves - a bonus, for sure, was that she could order the objects to polish or clean themselves why she simply  _read_. Said objects all fell to the floor in a collective heap when the door burst open, Merlin using the book to shield half of her face.

"Are you using magic  _again_?" Gaius demanded, incredulous. "Even after I told you not to?"

"No," Merlin tried, sitting up. "I was, um, just reading."

"What's all this, then?" Gaius asked, waving to where Arthur's chainmail hid inside one of his boots. "Poetry?"

She shrugged, running a hand through her hair nervously. "I dunno. You should probably knock next time - what if I had a boy in here?"

" _Would_ you have a boy in here?" Gaius raised an eyebrow.

Merlin thought of Valiant kissing her hand, and barely repressed her shudder. "Probably not, no. What did you come up here for?"

"Supper is ready," Gaius told her. "Though I'm rather surprised you're here and not at the reception. Does Prince Arthur not require your service?"

"The servants don't accompany their knights to the initial reception," Merlin recited what Arthur had earlier told her. "But they  _do_ have to serve their masters at the feast tomorrow. He seemed rather eager about bossing me about in front of a large crowd."

* * *

In some ways, Merlin was glad that Gaius had kicked her out after supper so she was forced to move into the armory, Arthur's chestpiece propped up on her knee. Logsbold hadn't really done much damage to Arthur's armour, other than a few scuffs, which were easily rectified. In fact, Merlin wasn't even focused on her job of polishing when she heard the hiss - instead focusing on a fantasy world where  _she_  was the Princess and Arthur was forced to do all of her dirty washing - but all of that was stripped away after a few seconds.

" _Ssss.... ssss.... sssss...._ " _  
_

Merlin brought her head up, glancing around the room. "Who's there?" She asked, the hair on the back of her neck raising. "Show yourself."

" _Sss.... asss.... hisssss.... Emrysssss..._ "

"I demand that you show yourself!" Merlin now demanded, heart beating quicker than she thought possible. Was this some kind of magical entity, attempting to contact her? "Who are you?"

" _Can't you tell? I'm hisssssing._ "

Merlin backed away from the armor, searching the room. "Where are you?"

" _Over here.... usssse your eyessss, Emrysss_."

Passing one of the pillars, her gaze flickered across the many different shields and swords, cautiously checking to see if anything was amiss. Merlin was incredibly confused when she realised that she was alone, not a single person who could be hiding in the shadows. She knelt down, tracing a hand across Valiant's shield. The three green snakes painted on it twirled around each other, intertwined deeply in the centre of the shield. Frowning, Merlin trailed the neck of the first snake, re-feeling the texture there. It felt smoother than the rest of the shield, almost as though it were-

Merlin jumped back with a gasp, heart in her throat, as the snake  _winked_ at her.

"That's not possible," she muttered. "Snakes don't even have eyelids."

"What are you doing?" A hard voice demanded from behind her, which she dimly recognised as Valiant's.

Thinking fast, Merlin jumped to her feet, spinning around to face him. "Nope."

"What were you doing down there?" Valiant asked, looking between her and his shield suspiciously.

"I... was admiring your crest," Merlin ducked her head, faking shyness. "I've spent so long looking at Pendragon red, and the detail on your shield is so finely done."

"It  _is_ an exquisite shield," Valiant said. "How long have you been Arthur's servant?"

 _Ten years, a few days, take your pick._  "Feels like forever," Merlin admitted.

"Morgana did say that you've served him longer than she can remember," Valiant mentioned it casually, unaware of the implosion inside Merlin's mind that his words had caused.

"She did?" Merlin asked, surprise colouring her tone. "I... suppose that's true. I can hardly remember myself."

"I apologise for earlier," he continued, smoothly. "I simply assumed from the way Arthur looked at you that you were his betrothed."

Merlin snorted. "He finds me annoying, nothing more. I should go, anyway," she said, skirting around him, collecting Arthur's armour in her arms. "Before I get yelled at for being late."

Valiant nodded, letting her go, and Merlin immediately ran down the corridor, not heading towards Arthur's chambers ( _how does he look at me?!_ ), but instead towards Kilgharrah's cavern.

They needed to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no one reviewed the last chapter? Didn't you like it?

**Author's Note:**

> pls tell me what you think and leave kudos! :)


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